Cog In The Machine
by ardy1
Summary: Typical Sokka capture fic. Well, maybe not so typical. Three dangerous ladies, one young man wishing he were a bit more dangerous himself. Rated for strong language and suggestive content. Chapter 23 added...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Wandering around looking for decent Sokka stories I noticed a recurrent theme of Sokka captured by the Dangerous Ladies, with either Ty Lee or Azula falling for the dear boy. Frankly, I've yet to see any of these stories catch and keep my interest, but it did occur to me to attempt the premise myself. Being freakishly lazy, I didn't bother attempting to come up with a scenario to fit with the season's ending, so assume this takes place shortly after The Drill. Yeah, gonna do a non-fluffy piece with Sokka and three scary girls. Hang onto your hats, folks, cuz it's gonna be a bumpy ride…

_Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. Y'all can just back off now…_

**Cog in the Machine**

Chapter One

"This one's alive…just," He heard the voice as if from the depths of a long tunnel; the words echoed such that he wasn't quite sure that he heard them correctly. With that, and the fact that some idiot was hammering at various points along his body and brain with a hammer the size of one of Appa's feet, he honestly felt he couldn't be blamed for not quite catching the man's words before, again, all sensation blessedly faded into a dull gray haze that he suspected couldn't really count as sensation at all. This, despite the occasional bursts of scattered color behind his eyeballs that he associated with pain, even though he had no idea what part of his body the pain might be centered on.

Such fuzziness, distasteful though its memory was to his ordinarily fastidious thought processes, was infinitely preferable to the sharply defined ache throbbing behind his left eye and pulsing along the same shoulder-blade in a knife-edge of heat and more defused pain spreading out along his back as consciousness returned. Having isolated these particular grievances, he proceeded to consider the rest of his body, and was pleasantly surprised at perceiving little more than the normal protests of strained muscle, random bruising, and fatigue that usually greeted his waking mind. Granted, there was additional rather stronger-than-usual soreness along his right side – he remembered wrenching his body to that side to try to avoid the collapsing wall – but all in all he seemed remarkably whole considering he had been caught in what he thought was the complete fall of the outer defenses of Ba Sing Sae.

Of course, he must be wrong in that assessment, since after all here he was in what must be a recovery ward for the survivors. The wall must not have fallen after all; he and the other defenders outside must have been brought back inside the defenses. And soon Katara would be there to bring her waterbender's healing touch to his various aches and pains. He would boast about the success of his plan to defeat the Fire Nation's latest attack and she would dismiss his boasting derisively.

So why were the walls swathed in red and why did they seem to lack the solidity of stone? And why did Katara take so long?

When he opened his eyes again he was comforted by the sight of a long, dark braid across the shoulder of the visage gazing back down at him. Less so when he noted the eyes that greeted his were grey. Not blue. And that face…

Sokka swore silently and let his eyelids flutter closed again. He might as well be dead.

Better dead, really.

An imperious voice pronounced something about classifying the wounded into those recoverable, those valuable, and something else he missed even as he recognized the main purpose as being to abandon along the wayside those deemed unworthy purely by dent of their inability to survive without help. A part of his brain weighed the utility of being left to die as opposed to quick execution – from the perspective of those so assigned – even as he tried to decide if he was better off so abandoned or being recognized as "worthy". Glumly, he decided his first assessment was correct; the world was better off if he were dead.

Unfortunately, the Fire Nation did not agree.

* * *

"You're sure."

"Oh yes, I've seen him several times now. It is him. There's no mistake." Ty Lee spoke with no hesitation. Granted, she'd not seen a lot of Water Tribe youth in her life, but she'd certainly seen enough young men she'd found attractive to be able to distinguish among them. This was one of the keepers. And really, there weren't all that many she was ready to say that of.

The princess raised her brows in askance as she surveyed her other minion. Mai lifted a shoulder in a hint of a shrug as she dug one hand negligently into a bowl of fire flakes on the table before them. Far be it for her to put the prisoner on a plane of importance above anything else.

"She's right. He has one of those… memorable faces. Besides, what are the odds of two Water Tribe warriors our age taking on Fire Nation troops outside the walls of the capitol of the  
Earth Kingdom? Not that I really care, but he _is_ the one that matters, the Avatar's friend. Assuming any of them matter."

"Yes. I thought I recognized him. And the reports on that one are…interesting." The Fire Princess was not easily read by even those who knew her well. But anyone knew that it was deadly to catch her interest.

Ty Lee thought wistfully about the possibilities she had considered in her imagination for the Water Tribe warrior under thrall to the Fire Nation. While she recognized in herself a penchant for a "pretty face", she confessed herself surprised at the thought that Princess Azula might be equally susceptible. Well, there was a first time for everything.

* * *

Awakening to the prospect of manacles was unpleasant but not surprising to Sokka. He no longer bothered to count the times his path had crossed from freedom to captivity and back again. The optimism of youth had been tempered in him by the vision of his mother's funeral barque, by his unspoken funeral duties as the "man of the tribe" over the last several years since his father left with the rest of the men of the tribe, and most recently by Yue's transference into the spirit world while literally in his arms. He swallowed hard, recognizing the taste of bile as the sick-man's bed was denied him and he was herded into a tiny group of those prisoners deemed somehow sufficiently valuable to the Fire Nation for a trek back to their ships.

And Sokka's stomach clenched as he realized the whole point of the attack on the city had been to capture Aang or, in default, some valuable hostage. Sokka had become practiced at analyzing Fire Nation attacks, and he had instantly spotted the anomaly in this one; it threatened the staging area for the ferry with an unsupportably large force. Either they had something to attack the wall or the ferry was vulnerable in a new way. In his enthusiasm to help what he perceived as Suki's venue, Sokka had failed to apply his usual thoroughness.

He would like to believe that Aang, Katara and Toph would make a rational decision regarding any attempt to rescue him. Because rationality recognized that as a non-bender and probably only a modestly effective fighter (Sokka was perfectly capable of honest assessments of his abilities with only himself as arbiter) he was unlikely to be recognized as any great asset. But to expect purely rational behavior from Aang, Katara and, maybe, even Toph as regards Sokka was like expecting a solar eclipse every day. It just wasn't going to happen.

Of course, maybe the Fire Nation could be convinced otherwise.

And that, Sokka told himself, was his only hope, short of escape.

* * *

She had always considered herself to be apolitical at heart. Such a position was a necessity for profitable travel among the four – no, there had been only three for generations now – nations.

Granted, her early days with the circus had been – illuminating, as least in terms of experiential mores – and she had certainly felt comfortable with the decisions she had made. At least, until the Princess Azula had returned and reminded her that, while all politics might be local, if you did not actually live locally you needed to take a broader view…

Still, she had thought the broadmindedness of the circus could extend _beyond_ the circus. But Azula had trapped her yet again, noting that ultimately one's loyalties had only one home. It didn't matter how much she might appreciate another culture, another standard of beauty – and who wouldn't appreciate the clean lines and easy smile of the Water Tribe boy anyway? – one's true loyalty lay at home.

That he had fallen into their hands was a fluke of fate, not exactly design on their part. No one had expected the wall to fail just there, not after the epic battle on the ramparts between Azula, the Avatar and the earthbending master. No one expected anyone from the Water Tribes to be among the common soldiers in the fray.

But. There he was. The idiot was frequently at the fore of battle, usually just where you didn't want anyone at all. To date, luck had attended him, and there was no gainsaying his presence had somehow been crippling to the Fire Nation effort (although that was probably attributable to the Avatar, not him).

Ty Lee dismissed Azula's concerns for the nonce. The Avatar was a child, and lacked sex appeal even if he was incredibly powerful. The Tribesman, however, while still clearly undeveloped and a non-bender, had those amazing blue eyes set in a face so beautifully proportioned – except perhaps for a chin that was rather too prominent for true beauty, and argued for potentially unpleasant stubborness – that even a Fire Nation sculptor would have been intrigued by his visage. She'd seen enough of his build – shoulders nicely displayed in throwing that thingagummy weapon – and stamina – he could run and jump long enough to outlast even Mai, that she was convinced this latest pretty boy to catch her eye was, in fact, a keeper, no, a real prize.

It really didn't matter that Azula migh think he was a prize for entirely different reasons.

But, in the privacy of her quarters, it _was_ reason enough to weep.

* * *

Why doesn't she want me to just kill him?

As she asked herself this question, there was no passion in it, or anything to push her to act at all. Mai had honed herself to a perfect edge and really, the only thing that boggled her mind anymore was why her principals didn't use her to their best advantage.

The perfect tool, she didn't recognize in herself a lack of ability to act of her own volition. Mai could no more kill without command than she could consider love without consent by her parents. It was only when she was required to kill that which she loved that she considered her options otherwise. And even then it had happened only in her imagination, and only for a love she told herself over and over again was purely a childish daydream. Still, she recognized that in that one case she might not have managed to satisfy loyalty over love.

Happily, she felt no love for Sokka, so her issues on that are not our story. On the other hand, it would seem there was nothing to stop her killing Sokka.

* * *

She was the greatest firebender of her age. She was the daughter of the Fire Lord. She would be proclaimed his heir!

Of course, she was his heir in ways that could never be proclaimed, but had always been recognized and accepted when they met eye to eye. He had not flinched. She faced the world confident in the knowledge that he never would.

But _she_ had made mistakes. She had missed her brother and uncle not once but twice! Her trail on the Avatar was even more fraught with missteps.

Even as she analyzed the problem it was clear that the more she knew of her enemy, the less likely she would be to make such mistakes in the future. This latest prisoner could be very valuable indeed.

Dimly in Azula's mind simmered the bits and pieces of this minor companion to the Avatar that were, of course, if secondary to the Avatar's emotional attachment to him. She had not needed to be reminded that in their first contact with him he had demonstrated a weapons expertise that thwarted even Mai, and Azula had been pondering, on an admittedly tertiarly level of her multi-tasking consciousness, his presence when the Drill was destroyed ever since she had herself recovered from that debacle. After all, his lack of outstanding martial skills would seem to have made him a liability that even the naïve Avatar would have avoided bringing into such a critical situation, so he was there for a reason, and that reason was important. So, even discounting the Avatar connection, the Water Tribe boy was a prize.

* * *

As it happened, the princess called for him literally in the middle of a period proscribed for his bath. When the courier arrived to summon him Sokka responded with an invitation to the princess to join him, as is, or at another place of her devising. By now, he was feeling reckless and more than ready to tempt death. Days had passed and he was well on the road to recovery from his battle wounds.

His lack of rescue on the part of his sister and friends had done much to both enhearten him and incise a certain bitterness in the pragmatist in his soul. For the first, he assumed they believed him dead. Abandonment simply didn't make sense otherwise, despite the demands of his own rationalism. What niggled at him was his firm belief in the lack of rationalism in his companions. And it was that, perhaps, that allowed him to take heart in a situation that had apparently written him off as, he had himself expressed, better off dead.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Warning – I haven't really got the format down on this thing. I do want to spend at least some time in everyone's heads, but since this is me writing it, the emphasis will be on Sokka. I'm also planning to have some fun here, so don't be surprised when sex rears its ugly head just to keep us all entertained. I will attempt to keep it believable, but really, we all know Azula would probably just kill everyone. So please be prepared to suspend your disbelief and relax your principles. (At the moment, I don't see it getting too explicit, in which case I'll have to change the rating. For now, I think it's okay)_

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. Y'all can just back off now…

Chapter 2:

"Damn it! I'm _coming_ already," Sokka grumbled as the guard who'd accompanied the princess's courier hauled him to his feet as he finished pulling on his boot.

He sincerely hoped he would be given a chance to finish that bath – it had been the first he had seen of any reasonable quantity of water since he'd regained consciousness (he didn't count the body of water on which this ship floated). Apparently there had been some confusion as to whether or not he was a waterbender. And while it had struck him as funny to have two firebenders attend the healer who changed his bandages and bathed his wounds in those first days, he was loath to actually strip down for a good wash with them in his cell. On the other hand, life in Ba Sing Se had instilled in Sokka an appreciation for cleanliness that had evaded him most of his short life, and he saw no reason not to indulge that appreciation in an otherwise wholly joyless situation.

He tried to grab his shirt off the bench, but the guard shoved him towards the door. "Aw, c'mon. You don't really expect me to walk in there half-naked, do you? _Do_ you?"

Another rough shove.

"Shit. I guess you do."

As he walked through the bowels of the ship between his escorts he wondered idly if he looked as vulnerable as he felt, and which would have made him feel better, a shirt or a weapon? It then occurred to him that he would be better off paying attention to the turns and various sets of stairways he was being led through. He then noted that his guards carried no obvious weapons. So. Firebenders again.

He considered himself lucky that among his injuries none included burns that would leave more than faint shadows of scarring on his already brown skin. At the moment, the pattern of bruising, particularly across his upper back and shoulder, was far more colorful to behold, and he flinched as the guard behind him placed a gloved palm squarely on what he was sure was the largest of his bruises to hurry him along.

"You know, you'd _all _be a lot better off if you'd stop being is such an all-fired hurry to obey orders. _Seriously_. It just sets up unreasonable expectations in people." He emerged onto the ship's deck and quickly side-stepped beyond the guard's immediate reach. "No, no. That's okay, I get the picture. No need to handle the merchandise."

In the bright daylight the figures around him assumed the starkness of silhouettes as his eyes struggled to adjust. He slicked his fingers through his loose hair, palming it away from his eyes as he surveyed his surroundings uncertainly.

There. Before the tower splitting off the stern from the foredeck was a raised platform. And it was there he saw them, sitting at a low table with a scattering of plates. He squinted. The plates appeared to be mostly empty. Not that he would have been likely to get a bite of any of that fare, but it didn't hurt to notice these things, now, did it?

Sure enough, with a thrust of a helmeted chin Sokka's guard indicated he was to head for the platform. Sokka swallowed hard. He'd faced down kings before, sure, and any number of unfriendly foes. But never before, he suddenly realized, had he done so alone.

* * *

The princess watched as her soldiers emerged from the lower deck with the prisoner, saw him dance aside with some comment not quite loud enough to carry its meaning to her ears, but the tone of annoyance and mockery was there. One brow raised fractionally as she noted his state of undress, the odd look of unkempt hair long at the crown and shaved close on the sides. A patchwork of white bandages showed in stark contrast against the dark bronze of his torso. She heard a soft intake of breath on one side as Ty Lee's gaze rested upon their catch.

Azula could not prevent her own lip from curling slightly in acknowledgment of her friend's suppressed appreciation at the sight. He was indeed handsome in his own exotic way, and while he lacked the raw power of her brother's stride, or the preternatural grace and speed of the Avatar, he moved with a certain purposefulness that struck her immediately. It _looked_ lazy, muscles relaxed and apparently even slack. But she was almost sure that to assume such would be a mistake. Princess Azula was not going to make any mistakes.

With an inward chuckle Azula realized how she had recognized what she was now sure was a performance on the Water Tribe boy's part. On her other side Mai's sleeve brushed the tabletop as the young woman moved her tea cup off to one side. She deliberately shifted her body to the side, presenting a narrower target to the group approaching the dais under the guise of examining the table before them for any tempting remaining morsels. _Everything_ about Mai was a pose; beneath her sleeve was enough sharpened metal to impale not only the prisoner but his guards and Azula's courier several times over. The boredom hooding her gaze masked her observation of everyone's position and angle of fire relative to Azula.

The princess was pleased. She knew of Ty Lee's interest in the young man before them, and had expected to exploit it to her advantage. She had not expected to find the model for understanding him in Mai, and rejoiced in her luck.

* * *

Ty Lee thanked her attention to karma for the unexpected pleasure in seeing the Water Tribe prisoner looking so _delightfully_ primitive. She had to clench one fist beneath the table hard against her belly to keep from giggling with raw lust at such a nice range of exposed skin. He was lean, lanky even to the point of appearing a bit underfed, and the network of bruises showing purple and yellow beneath the dusky skin distracted from the clean definition of musculature. She knew what she saw was the result of burst vessels and subsequent pooling and dying of fluids beneath the skin, knew of ways to manipulate blood flow in those areas that would both ease the pain and restore the natural color. She longed to run her hands over his skin and… help him.

Deliberately Ty Lee unclenched her fist and drew in what she hoped was a normal breath, willing the heat to dissipate from her own blood before she found herself doing something terribly foolish. He was, after all, just another pretty face. She allowed her eyes to take in the limpid blue of his own gaze before dropping them again to his bare chest, the narrow plane of his belly, pausing briefly in silent contemplation before focusing on him as _just _another element in the tableau of figures on the deck before them.

And it suddenly struck her that the Water Tribe boy's aura was a coppery gold, and _not_, as she might have expected, any shade of blue at all.

* * *

Did they expect him to bow or something? He remembered King Bumi's guards forcing them to their knees when they were brought before him for wreaking havoc with the city's package delivery system. Well, he had felt _guilty_ then, and ready to do whatever was wanted to earn any kind of clemency. But this? This was wholly different. So, maybe out and out rudeness was not appropriate, but he'd be _damned_ if he'd show any particular courtesy to the daughter of the Fire Lord. If anything, _she_ was the one who owed him an apology, an apology for all the hell her family and nation had wrought on the world over the last hundred years and on him _personally _for the deaths of those he held so dear. No. He _wouldn't_ bow.

One part of his brain took in the picture the three girls before him made, negligently sitting at a table with the remains of a feast of delectables no more luscious than that formed by their faces and lovely figures.

He was _young_ enough to find the picture enticing and he blinked twice, hoping to have burned the images upon his retinas sufficiently to recall them for contemplation at some pleasant leisure, assuming he might someday _have_ such a thing.

He was _old _enough in experience with these three to _loathe_ the reality of their presence, together or apart. He noted the appraising coldness of the princess's gaze, considered how the perfection of her features resembled her brother's, but lacked his passion.

More seconds were spent assessing the wide-eyed smile of the contortionist. There was something _proprietary_ in her look that frightened him, and he wondered if maybe there were layers of danger he could not even imagine.

The other one _appeared _to ignore him completely, but he knew that was a sham. Still, he was relatively sure she wanted nothing of him, unlike the other two. He was merely another enemy to her, someone to dominate or crush beneath her. The girl with the weapons he understood because he felt the same way about her. No mystery there. She avoided his eyes, as if by doing so she was ignoring his very existence. Yeah. Right.

* * *

Mai _remembered_ his quickness and, even if she had forgotten, his appearance from the hold with its deft shift to avoid the arms of his guards had been ample reminder. Because Azula had always been able to match her in sizing up any given situation, Mai assumed the princess had also taken note of the prisoner's awareness of those around him and his ability to avoid them. The firebenders would all assume he couldn't avoid their flames, and perhaps they would be right. The other benders could interpose their own elements in defense, but the non-bender was helpless. Mai smiled without humor, and hid the motion of her lips by bringing a tiny almond-flavored cookie to her mouth, inhaling briefly the sugary essence of almond paste layered in each bite.

As she knew from experience, _most_ bending attacks could be evaded or thwarted, if you just knew how. After he had spent so many months in the company of the Avatar, was it wise to assume the Water Tribe youth had _not_ learned to deal effectively with bending? She drew one finger surreptitiously along the flat of a blade beneath her sleeve. She would keep _her_ trust in the solid steel she could touch.

And she saw no need to extend such trust to the firebending troops of her father that had been assigned to Azula. After all, where did their allegiance lie anyway? So, even as she marked the prisoner she also marked his escort. Almost certainly it wasn't necessary. But Azula had chosen her not because she was extraordinarily competent with her weapons, although of _course_ she was. No, Azula had chosen her, had _trusted_ her, to see beyond the certain to the merely possible. So yes, she would pay attention to this prisoner, unlikely as he was to offer anything in the way of interest himself.

And why, anyway, was he of value to the Avatar?

* * *

"It seems you are of no value to the Avatar after all," the princess stated baldly.

"War's hell on friendship, as it is on most things," Sokka returned evenly. The corner of his mouth twitched. This might be easier than he had thought.

"So you aren't surprised that he has abandoned you?"

"One man's life don't count for much in the grand scheme of things." Sokka shrugged, deliberately butchering his grammar and diction. "He's a smart kid. I'd've been surprised if he hadn't figured that out."

"You realize, of course, that you're worthless to me except as a hostage?" She sat back, curious to see how far he was willing to take this.

"So, I guess you might as well just let me go, then," he suggested blandly. "Sure, an' you don't need another mouth to feed." His eye measured the quantity of food remaining on the table before them as his nose attempted to identify if there was both turkeypork and swanbeef dumplings or just the former.

"Or I could just _kill _you," Azula smiled.

Sokka cocked his head as if considering her words. "I gotta say I think you should let me go. Killing is _messy._ Bodies to deal with. Guilt feelings. Guessin' paperwork even in the Fire Nation. Really, _more_ trouble than it's worth. Let me go and I just walk away, no muss, no fuss." He met her eyes with a smile he hoped conveyed harmless idiocy and helpfulness.

"The mess is not my problem, and guilt? _Why_ should I feel guilty at ridding the Fire Nation of a… problem?"

His brows rose in a "who, me?" gesture, but he had the wit to keep silent.

"You _look_ strong enough. Perhaps you'd make a good _slave_." Azula was almost amused. The peasant had gall; she had an impression that at least some portion of his mind was not on her, and if she weren't just slightly intrigued by the reality that now fleshed out the various reports that had been compiled on this particular Avatar companion she'd have blistered the deck with his charred remains as soon as he appeared.

His face twisted and he shook his head, infusing patently false regret in his voice, "Hmm, probably _not_. I'm lazy; oversleep most of the time; they tell me my feet stink; I'm _horribly_ forgetful of orders; and oh, did I mention I _eat_ a lot? Better _pass_ on that option."

He could feel the tension rising in the guards on either side of him like waves of heat. She wasn't going to let him go – he'd known it before he suggested it, but it would be wrong to act like he didn't wish she would. _Hell, he did wish it, with all his heart!_ Let her think him stupid and foolish, and he might just possibly have a chance. But he couldn't appear _too _stupid. It was a fine balance to walk and he really wasn't sure he was up to it.

_They must believe me dead…I'm better off dead…if I'm really dead she can't use me against them…I'm better off dead…what the fuck is she waiting for?... Now what, damn it?_

The smile on Princess Azula's face hardened fractionally, and then suddenly relaxed. Ty Lee noticed a thrumming pulse appear at the base of her friend's right thumb as she traced it across her lip. The princess's cold blue aura whitened, and Ty Lee wondered how soon they would see the flash of lightning destroy the lovely form standing so fearlessly before them. She noticed her own aura curl dimly around her in a shade that could only be considered a puckish orange.

"Well, then. If you've nothing to offer me…"

"Fire away, lady," he answered, holding his hands out at first, as if presenting himself as a target. "Not that I've got a death wish, but fuck it. No point wasting any more time."

* * *

Azula glared at the prisoner before her, absorbing the now aggressively crossed arms, the slack shifting of his weight upon one hip, and the studious avoidance entirely of her gaze. He was clearly trying to provoke her! He was practically _begging_ her to kill him!

No. If that was what he wanted, then that was the last thing she would give him.

Suddenly the princess frowned. "How dare you appear before me unclothed? Have you no respect?"

He heard a… _playfulness_ in her voice that chilled him, so he dared another shrug. "Your highness, you're lucky I'm here with my boots on. These idiots caught me in the middle of a bath, and I thought at first I might be showing up with just a towel. You don't like it, it's your problem, not mine."

The guards and Ty Lee froze in an exquisite agony of apprehension. Was anyone safe from the blast that was sure to come? Mai stretched her limbs languorously and turned her head to look fully upon Sokka. Now _this_ was interesting!

"Hmm. Then perhaps you should finish that bath of yours," Azula said, her tone clipped and devoid of emotion. "When next I send for you, I expect you suitably attired and on time." She transferred her glare to the guard, who trembled in his boots.

Sokka gave half a smile, shrugged yet again, and turned on his heel to walk away. He half wondered what his odds were of attempting a run and jump over the side, but as his guards closed in around him he abandoned the thought and returned obediently to the stairway leading below deck.

"You! Bring me his shirt!"

Sokka paused, mid-step. _Shit_. She had spotted the problem. He allowed himself to appear to stumble, catching himself awkwardly as if tripped up by the sudden shift from light to dark stairwell.

He was still alive. And maybe this wasn't such a good thing.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Sigh. When I've done "romance" before, it's always been definitely tongue-in-cheek. Now I'm attempting something a wee bit more, I don't know, serious (does anyone think the 007 movies are __**serious**__, but that's the kind of thing I'm talking about). I mean, I'm still laughing as I write, but I'm attempting to make it not __**too**__ far out of the realm of possibility as far the avatarverse and characters are concerned. Still, the whole "capture fic" premise is absurd on its face. Is it even possible to make it work at all?_

_Seriously, folks, if you're expecting stuff like I've posted in "Prison Conversations" and "Passages", you'll find this sadly degenerate. This is my "shits and giggles" fic. I refuse to be held responsible for what I produce under the influence of, um, wholly legal substances given my age and willingness to not get behind the wheel of a moving vehicle._

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. Y'all can just back off now…

Chapter 3:

He was back in his windowless cell and, thankfully, alone again. For some wholly unfathomable reason, the fire-bender guard who had seen him back from the odd interview with the princess had decided to heat up the water in the large basin from his interrupted bath. Since the water had started out stream-cold he didn't get the point, but he found the hot water soothing and welcome after his face-down with the Dangerous Ladies, and he made a mental note to exempt _that_ particular fire-bender from the worst of his brooding plans of retribution. That is, if he _could_ single the guy out from the faceless, helmeted mass of soldiers that had confronted him since his awakening.

He thought about it, and decided that while keeping your enemies faceless was probably a good strategy from one perspective, it was lousy from another. Anonymous enemies were admittedly more frightening, and struck a particular chord of horror in opponents. Why else did his own people don warrior's paint? On the other hand, how easy was it to cut down an enemy who wore a face that _could_ be confused with that of a cousin, an uncle, a brother? It was a two-edged sword. Perhaps the final decision rested on what vantage you were trying to further; that of more carnage or final peace. He wished, not for the first time, that he could share these reflections with his father.

On the other hand, if that meant having his _father_ share his cell, well, never mind. Some company is better kept alone.

He unconsciously shivered. The water had been heated, yes, but the towel was inadequate even by Water Tribe standards, and he _still_ had no shirt to replace that confiscated by the other guard.

Damn the princess, anyway. It had finally occurred to her that the lack of any rescue attempt had nothing to do with Aang's disregard for Sokka and everything to do with bewilderment as to his whereabouts. With earthbending, it wouldn't have taken long to ascertain that his body wasn't among those caught in the rubble. Aang's friends were all too prominent to have gotten lost in the various infirmaries set up for the wounded. At least, they were prominent among the _Earth Kingdom_. But could the same be said of them among the bulk of the Fire Nation? Sure, Aang's face and figure was common knowledge, but how many in the Fire Nation would actually recognize any of the others? There were, after all, so _many_ refugees from _all_ the peoples displaced by the war. Prince Zuko and his uncle of course would recognize them, and probably the princess and her own companions could pick them out of a crowd. But surely _their _faces were unknown to the vast majority of the Fire Nation.

So it was _quite_ possible that Sokka was an anonymous prisoner of the Fire Nation. They had worked this out beforehand, and agreed that under no case would specific inquiries be made if any of them went missing after a battle – the _best_ hope for survival lay in _keeping_ that anonymity. Of course, it was also possible that he had died in such anonymous captivity.

But Princess Azula had figured this all out as well. She _wanted_ to draw attention to his plight. Perhaps she would even attempt to offer a trade, as Aang had done so long ago. So, she would send some token of his back to Ba Sing Se. Something unmistakable.

They _didn't_ have his boomerang, then. He'd been around the world enough to learn how unique a weapon it was his father had gifted him, and credited Azula and her allies with similar recognition. So it must have made it back without him. He didn't recall having carried anything else particularly unusual into the fray, or even anything that spoke specifically of the Water Tribe. No wonder they wanted his shirt.

Well, much joy may it give them. Katara was smart. Even if she recognized it as his, she'd know it could have been pulled off a corpse, and she'd hold the line. And if she didn't, he'd find a way to kick her butt, no matter how great a water-bender she was!

He'd finished his bath, but he hardly felt any cleaner for his efforts. In fact, he felt distinctly soiled, both by the encounter with the princess and his unpleasant thoughts. Well, he supposed thinking was the _least_ sordid thing he'd be forced into by the war before it ended. Then again, he'd have liked to keep his _thoughts_ at least somewhat pure. Crap. Too late for that, anyway.

He finished dressing, draping the thin towel over his shoulders. As someone who had spent the bulk of his life in frigid climes, he was wholly uncomfortable leaving any crucial part of his anatomy bare; since he'd lost his shirt to the princess's political shenanigans he had every intention of demanding alternative wear.

* * *

As if his mind were being read, the lock in the door to the holding cell rattled briefly before the door itself opened. The shorter girl with the long braid, wide eyes, and all too predatory grin strode in, his blue tunic over her arm. He remembered her name was Ty Lee.

"Hey, Handsome," she quipped, "You look all clean and shiny, now. Good enough to eat."

"Hey, Brat. What do you want?"

"That's not very _friendly_. I'm not a 'brat'."

"You're one of my jailors, aren't you? Why should I be friendly?"

"Because I'm _flirting_ with you. You should be flattered. Do you think I'm pretty?"

Sokka was flummoxed. Her responses made no sense to him whatsoever.

"Um. Jailor-prisoner thing, remember? That was _not _an appropriate question."

She smiled, this time a bit more broadly. "It seems to me that if _I'm_ a jailor, _I'm_ the one who gets to make the rules, _not_ the prisoner. So I get to decide what's appropriate. _Do you think I'm pretty_?"

He shuddered. Apparently there would be no evading this line of interrogation.

"Fine, Brat, you're pretty. Like an egret stalking a fish. Lovely to watch, but you gotta feel sorry for the fish." (Only belatedly did it occur to him that he _could_ have lied…)

Ty Lee laughed easily, then her eyes grew wider as she contemplated the image he'd invoked.

"Are _you _feeling like a fish, Water Tribe boy?" She drew a few steps closer. Since the cabin wasn't large to begin with, this brought her within arm's length of Sokka, who was loath to back away, no matter how much his gut screamed at him otherwise.

"What. Do. You. Want?" He repeated. With mild regret he thought about the damage his sister could do with the quantity of water in the basin at his feet. Sometimes it _would_ be nice to be able to bend.

"I already have your shirt. What would you say if I asked for the _rest_ of your clothing?"

Sokka shook his head at her. "Forget it, Brat. I'm _not_ interested and I don't honestly believe _you _are either. The princess won't find anything in my other clothes to suit her purpose either."

"Aren't you a clever one? But maybe it's not your clothes I'm interested in – maybe it's seeing you _without_ them." Ty Lee tilted her head beguilingly. "Nice necklace. I don't think I've seen anything like it before."

Sokka's brain stumbled. Damn it! This was wrong, all wrong. Her comments were outrageous, especially when coupled with that _hungry_ grin of hers. And it made it that much harder for him to think!

"No. Forget it."

"Ooh. It _is_ special, isn't it? Princess Azula would definitely find it more useful than your shirt. Perhaps_ I'll_ keep the shirt…" she reached up towards his neck.

Without even thinking he grabbed her wrist, and when her other hand shot out stiff-fingered to block his _chi_ his other fist was already blocking, twisting and then grasping that wrist as well. His grip was hard and uncompromising as he pulled her over his hip, then slammed her against the wall.

"I said no! Look. You send that and trust me, they'll know you took it off my dead body. What _good_ is that now?" He hissed.

With a sharp intake of breath Ty Lee realized that she had assumed a little too much as to her own ability to cope with this boy. Her advantage lay in surprise and speed, but he was all too familiar with her fighting tactics. Still, she wasn't frightened. Instead, she felt a little thrill run through her as she felt his weight trap her so quickly. After all, there was a guard outside the door; all she had to do was scream, and water boy here would be, quite literally, toast.

Using his grip on her arms, she leveraged her body up, reaching with her lips for his, still twisted in a snarl. He didn't know _all_ her tactics after all.

The kiss was such a surprise that, for a brief moment Sokka froze, her mouth soft against his and shockingly, mind-numbingly hungry. Then he thrust himself away from her, tripping over the basin on the floor and sprawling out awkwardly as he tried to avoid the sloshing water as well as what he was now thinking was a very dangerous lady indeed.

* * *

"What's taking you so long?" The door had opened unnoticed to admit yet another of the trio, who stopped short as her eyes took in the scene. "You were supposed to get his necklace, not engage in lip-lock exercises with him."

"I'm working on it. _He _says they'll think he's _dead _if they see that." There was no embarrassment in Ty Lee's voice, and Sokka wondered if she made a habit of kissing strangers. As she moved to close the distance between them again he scooted sideways on his backside, trying to keep his eyes on and at least arm's length away from both girls. His back thudded painfully on the far wall.

"Maybe, but the necklace is more distinctive than the shirt. Azula wants there to be _no_ ambiguity as to who our prisoner is." The voice was flat, but for all her apparent nonchalance Sokka saw a nasty-looking blade of some kind had appeared in the girl's left hand. Ty Lee was kneeling beside him now, and he felt her hands at his throat again. Reflexively, he pulled away, but he didn't try to grab her arms again. There was no point and he felt foolish enough as it was.

"Hey, there's no knot or clasp on this thing."

"I told you, it doesn't come off."

"Here, I'll cut it off." Now the other one moved closer and he felt himself panicking.

Sokka's arms came up in a warding gesture. "Wait. Look, you _don't_ need it. My _shirt'_s good enough, really. If you look at the right side seam you'll see it's been repaired with black thread instead of blue. My sister sewed it. She'll recognize the stitches."

Ty Lee frowned, looking at her companion even has she continued to rest one hand on his shoulder as the other slipped fingers between the carved bone segments of his necklace and his throat, trying to find the connecting band. Her touch was lingering, almost intimate, and Sokka swallowed hard at the sensation.

"Sorry, Handsome. Azula said she wanted the necklace."

"_No._ He's right. The shirt will do. Come on, Ty Lee, you can play with him later." The taller girl, whose name had escaped Sokka, had picked up his tunic from the floor where Ty Lee had dropped it during the kiss. Turning it inside out, she ran one finger over the line of black thread among the blue.

"Really? You think Azula will be satisfied that his sister will recognize her handiwork? Gee, Handsome, I think Mai must like you, too, to stick up for you like that. Don't worry, I'll be back." And with a final caress of his jawline, Ty Lee stood up and walked to the cell door.

"The princess will be satisfied." The tall one, Mai, turned to look at Sokka, deliberately waiting until his eyes met hers. "After all, we can always _remind_ the sister what to look for."

With that she closed the door behind her. Sokka heard the key turn in the lock, but he didn't move from his position on the floor of the cell, sitting against the wall.

As his brain resumed its normal functioning he realized _just_ how foolish he had been, and he buried his head in his hands.

* * *

_A/N: Okay, I admit, this chapter had me howling with laughter. Ty Lee is no Victorian miss sighing at the picture of her noble savage (thanks, by the way, dear reviewer, for the delightful image). I picture her more as the Regency noble whore, entirely enjoying what life has to offer. If she were smarter, now, she'd be __really__ dangerous!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Damn, this is kinda fun, if a bit distracting from my other projects. Poor, poor Sokka. Getting him out of this is going to be very tricky indeed._

_And I hope you all are happy with my presentation of the Dangerous Ladies. I plan to develop all three a fair bit in this, although I'm afraid Ty Lee will be rather more, ahem, exposed than the others._

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. Y'all can just back off now…

Chapter 4

As they made their way back above deck Mai blocked out Ty Lee's chatter. It would be the usual commentary on the claustrophobic design of navy warships, unflattering uniforms that made it impossible to assess the attractiveness or age of individual firebenders, and probably some coy remarks on the impact she had made on their prisoner. Ty Lee was _so_ predictable. If it weren't for her phenomenal athleticism and a strange ability to perfectly placate Azula's bad temper, Mai would have ceased to pay any attention whatsoever to her long ago.

It didn't help that Ty Lee used her freedom to express herself with the princess to make sly digs at Mai herself. It was an old habit, born of their childhood years together when Azula made a practice of choosing first one or the other of her "friends" to gang up on the remainder. It was then that Mai began to cultivate the thick skin that eventually transmuted into general apathy.

Actually, it _had_ been mildly amusing to watch the Water Tribe boy flounder about in his confusion over Ty Lee's aggressive flirtation. He was clearly out of his depth, and struggling hard to maintain some presence of mind to deal with the situation. Had she not been there as well, he might have lost his precious tribal ornament only to win the actual battle regarding communications. Because _that_ Ty Lee would have missed altogether. Mai smiled quietly to herself.

* * *

As they emerged back on deck, Princess Azula was finishing a review of correspondence from the Fire Nation capitol. From the look on her face Mai gathered that Fire Lord Ozai was losing patience with his daughter's lack of progress.

"Well?"

Mai held up the blue tunic, still inside out. "The shirt's better than the necklace, Princess."

"Really? Don't tell me you've succumbed to watching pectoral muscles as well?" Azula sneered, but since Mai had yet to truly disappoint her she waited.

"I'm an abs girl, myself, and I'm sure I've seen better, though I suppose his are alright."

Ty Lee giggled at this rejoinder, but Mai went on. "He _said_ his sister did the repair work on one of the inside seams."

"Did he now? And of course, if he weren't alive we'd have no way of knowing that, would we?" Azula smiled in satisfaction. "You're right, Mai, that's _much_ better than a necklace we could have ripped from his dead throat. We must be sure the courier makes that point as well, mustn't we?"

"Ooh. I get it now. And here I thought you were just being nice to him because he didn't want to lose his necklace. Clever, Mai, very clever." Ty Lee cart-wheeled onto a cushion beside the princess. Mai settled herself more sedately on Azula's other side.

"And thanks to you for flustering him so much he gave the game away."

"One of you, please tell me he knows the importance of his little statement. I don't like his attitude."

Mai yawned neatly into her hand. "He knows. When we left him I thought he was going to cry."

Azula turned towards Ty Lee. "I gather from Mai's remark that you made your little _thing _for our prisoner apparent to him. Did he take it well?"

Ty Lee giggled again. "I think I surprised him, but I'm sure he'll be receptive once he thinks about it. I mean, after all, why shouldn't he?"

"Indeed. Why should a little thing like your being his enemy get in the way of true love?" Mai drawled.

Azula gave a delicate snort. "It's never love with Ty Lee, and she never cares about a man's politics. Your family would be shocked at your behavior, Ty Lee. You're lucky I'm more liberal-minded."

The contortionist shrugged. "You two have no idea what you're missing. And you're wrong; I'm _very _selective about the men I choose. My criteria are just _different_ from yours. And I'm betting yours will change once you've actually spent some time with a man alone."

"Are you presuming to tell me how to choose a man?" Azula asked sweetly.

Ty Lee's eyes grew round with panic, and Mai schooled her own lips not to smile. It never paid to suggest that the princess was less than perfect at anything. Ty Lee should know that by now.

"Of course not, Azula, I'm sure your choice will be perfect for you," she assured. "But, um, wait. Won't the Fire Lord choose for you?"

"Ty Lee, you forget yourself. I take what I want, when I want it." The princess narrowed her eyes at the other girl. "And if I think he's good enough, I may decide to take your latest pet."

Ty Lee smiled uncertainly. Mai could not control the rise of one slender brow. How much of that statement was keeping the other girl in line and how much was it a warning that in fact the princess was interested? If the latter, Mai was reasonably sure it would be a first, and that _did_ add an element of interest that had been missing. Who would have thought the presence of a Water Tribe peasant on board could prove so entertaining?

"Oh, calm yourself," Azula sat back against the cushions behind her. She gestured to one of the soldiers to approach. "By all means, do with him what you will, if you can. While you're at it, try and found out as much as you can about the Avatar and his plans. He may be more likely to talk under _your_ kind of pressure than mine, and he's certainly more likely to remain healthier. We wouldn't want to break anything, now would we? Mai, prepare a message to be delivered with the shirt to Ba Sing Se."

* * *

Ty Lee decided to detour to the galley on her way back to the holding cells. She would check to see when Sokka had last eaten, and maybe bring him something tempting to eat as a means of lulling his suspicions against her. All guys liked good food, right?

Azula's message had not been lost on her; it had been what she had feared ever since the Water Tribe boy had been identified among their prisoners. Something about him intrigued the princess, something beyond his value as a hostage. It was unlikely to be related to Ty Lee's own simple lust, although she did think it was about time Azula showed some chink in the armor of her self-sufficiency. Mai, she understood. Mai still carried a torch for Prince Zuko, and would probably never be able to contemplate another man until she'd either humped herself silly with him or buried one of her nasty knives to its hilt in his chest.

Whatever.

But it simply wasn't natural for a girl _not_ to feel the pull of desire at all, and while there was much about Azula that seemed, well, _more_ than natural actually, it didn't make sense that she would be truly sexless. It then occurred to her that perhaps she had misjudged the princess. Perhaps it wasn't that the princess didn't feel desire; maybe she just didn't desire the _opposite_ sex. Ty Lee giggled again. Another thought intruded. So maybe Azula and Mai were dealing with their own urges after all, but together! Oh dear. That would be too funny! What a pity she couldn't share the joke with someone.

* * *

Azula had a headache. And she knew why. It was that damned Water Tribe boy. He was taking up too much of her time and attention today, and she was getting far too little out of it. First it was his insolence when he appeared before her after lunch. He was deliberately antagonistic, and at first she had thought he was simply too stupid to live. But _that_ didn't make sense.

She had pored over every report, every sighting of the Avatar and his friends. She had separate dossiers compiled on each of them, carefully annotated and analyzed by the best minds in her father's service. And she had her own observations, combined with her companions' candid remarks.

Sokka was a threat to the Fire Nation not because of his great bending – he was not a bender at all – or because of his great prowess as a warrior – he was competent, certainly, but nothing outstanding. No, his danger lay in his _attitude_, his _intelligence_, and, most of all, his ability to lay his ideas out before _others_. He could actually _lead_ people.

Oh, no one would follow him out of loyalty or duty. But he had ideas, he had passion, and he was clever. He was convincing and he had the courage of his convictions.

She probably should have killed him after all.

But that was what he _wanted_ her to do, so it was obvious that this was the one thing she could not do. And so she had a headache. He must know something more than she did about him.

Perhaps she could find a reason for someone else to die.

* * *

Sokka cursed emotional attachments, cursed being young and being male. He was sure if he had been older and more experienced he would have been oblivious to the blatant sexuality of the Fire Nation girl, or at _least_ not so susceptible to it as to let it muddle his thinking so. If he were as cynical as he liked to believe he'd have broken the thong threading his necklace together himself and handed it to her without blinking. He could have played the corpse he aspired to be.

There would have been no absurd scuttling like a crab across the cell floor, no teasing fingers playing at his neck while he attempted to regulate his breathing and ignore the heat building in his blood. There would have been no humiliation and, more importantly, no idiotic comments on personal history that could be used against him, against Katara and Aang.

Aang. If _he_ felt too young to cope with the demands placed upon him in this world of war, how must Aang feel – for all his century of sleep, he was still so much more a child than Sokka could claim to be. Sokka grit his teeth painfully. Princess Azula didn't appear to have any more years on her than he, and the other two as well. His inexperience and youth were no excuse. He would just _have_ to find a way to beat them.

Sokka finally picked himself up off the floor of the cell. He was finished beating himself up for being foolish, done feeling sorry for himself. Damn it, if he had been prepared to _die _for his friends, then he could sure as hell find a way to live for them, or at the very least not make his death such a sorry waste.

After all, he was Water Tribe.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Now we go back to Sokka. I'm thinking of this as Round Two…_

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. Y'all can just back off now…

Chapter 5

There was really nothing to do, and no room to do it in anyway. A guard had taken away the bath basin, and the cell was, for the moment anyway, devoid of anything movable besides himself.

There was a wall sconce for a candle behind a latched grill near the door, and a long, low bench built into one wall served as the only furniture. He had stood on it when he first arrived to see if he could reach the vent near the ceiling that let in air. There was little purchase for his fingers once he did manage it, and no reward for his efforts; the vent was hooded on the other side, leading into some kind of duct-way whose size was impossible to judge. He decided that it would have been a pretty stupid cell design if egress had been possible through such an obvious opening, _and face it, one thing the Fire Nation engineers are not and that's stupid_.

So he sat on the bench, wracking his brain for some way out, and considering a time line. This ship, now docked at the small Fire Nation port, had been a three-day hike from the city's outer wall. He remembered noticing that the port itself consisted of a few smaller buildings flanking a larger structure; probably where the giant drill had been constructed from parts brought in on navy ships over time to this large inland bay. The pier itself was substantial, and included two heavy cranes that supported Sokka's deduction. The location of the port itself clearly relied on the depth of the bay here, which was deep enough to accommodate the draft of the big ships. That and its relatively safe distance from Earth Kingdom assault troops intent on defending the Earth Kingdom capitol from encroachment by the Fire Nation. The paucity of ships along the pier itself was testament to the difficulty the Fire Nation had in bringing ships in through the bay's narrow mouth.

So he had maybe two-three days before his friends received Azula's message, less if she sent it via a mounted rider. Yeah, she would do that. He was running out of time.

Again, the door lock rattled, and he eyed the door itself grimly. It was hard to imagine how it could herald good news.

* * *

One of the helmeted guards opened the door, leading the way for the promised reappearance of Ty Lee, this time carrying a tray laden with several covered bowls. At first he was dismayed, but the odors wafting into the cell from that tray indicated the contents were both hot and savory, two elements sadly lacking from his fare to date. Perhaps the girl had some positive points to her after all.

The guard added another candle to the wall sconce, and left a lantern on the floor on the other side of the door as he left, closing the door solidly behind him. The additional light was welcome, although when she stood in front of it her face was cast in shadow, and he couldn't read her eyes at all.

"So they said you only get to eat once a day, and I thought how silly that was, since I know we had lots of leftovers from our lunch. But maybe the cooks in the galley keep it for themselves. What do you think?" She said chattily as she breezed about.

Sokka stood up immediately. "It's that whole jailer-prisoner thing. _You_ keep messing it up. I'm guessing you haven't really done this much before, have you?"

His sense of irony was caught by her words. She apparently thought it should be perfectly possible for them to have a congenial conversation despite the circumstances.

On the other hand, since she came bearing food, he was prepared to make allowances.

"Bring food to someone? Oh sure, a lady _has_ to know how to look after her guests, and I _am_ a lady after all." She held the tray out to him.

He shook his head, trying to determine if she deliberately chose to misunderstand him, or if she were really that dim.

"I think you're using the word 'guest' pretty loosely here, but hey, if that's for me I'm not complaining," he took the tray from her outstretched hands and set it down on the bench. "Well?"

"Please, that's what I brought it for." Ty Lee settled herself on the bench on one side of the tray as he knelt on the other, drawing one leg up beneath him.

She watched a brown hand scoop up one of the bowls easily and slide off the cover with a practiced thumb as he brought it to his lips. His attention was wholly focused on the bowl's contents, which disappeared with astonishing speed and, frankly, little grace.

She remembered those hands' grip on her arms, and a slight shiver ran through her as she considered that mobile mouth making short work of her offerings. She wondered if he brought such focus to everything he did and felt the familiar thrum of heat begin to build.

Sokka reached for the second bowl with his other hand even as he swallowed the last bites of the first. He noticed the fire girl's eyes upon him, and it occurred to him that he should slow down. _Way_ down. After all, there was no telling what else was on her agenda besides feeding him.

"So, you're not worried that I'm poisoning you, or that I've drugged your food?" Ty Lee suggested with a grin as she pulled her knees up to her chest and roped her arms around them.

"Poisoning me after bothering to bandage me up and bring me all this way would be kinda pointless, wouldn't it? As for drugs, if you had anything worth using you wouldn't have waited till now," he shrugged his shoulders as he more sedately removed the cover off the second bowl. He took an appreciative sniff. "I mean, even _I_ don't think the Fire Nation's _that_ stupid."

She giggled. "You don't like us much, do you?"

He lifted one eyebrow as he glanced at her sideways. What could she possibly be thinking? Could she _ask_ a dumber question?

"I mean, just because we're on opposite sides doesn't mean we can't get along, does it?"

"I kinda think that not getting along's part of the definition of being on opposite sides," he pointed out, reaching for the chop-sticks on the tray.

"Pooh. Now you're being stubborn. When the Fire Nation wins the war we'll all _have _to get along anyway, so why not start now?"

"Listen, Brat. We're operating on different assumptions here to start with. I _don't_ think the Fire Nation's gonna win," he punctuated the statement by pointing the chop-sticks at her, adding under his breath. "Not if _I _have anything to say about it."

"You're _cute_ when you go all defiant, you know. Gives me _chills_." She shimmied her shoulders for effect, releasing her legs to rest her feet back on the floor, tucking one knee behind the other and letting the sway carry itself throughout her body. She knew it was a provocative pose, and it was about time he finished eating anyway.

"What's _with_ you? You don't really expect me to take you seriously, do you?" She was maddening was what she was. That cheerful grin and those wide puppy-seal eyes that never ceased to regard him. It made him all too conscious of his missing tunic. On the other hand, the cell now seemed plenty warm.

Ty Lee considered before answering. It appeared that she had him again pleasantly off-kilter. This was almost more fun than foreplay. _Almost_.

"I'd _seriously_ like you to take me…" she murmured.

And Sokka dropped the near-empty bowl as his fingers went suddenly nerveless. He gnawed at the inside of his cheek as his brain attempted to shift gears and catch up to this girl. Unfortunately, his brain was the only part of him not already in sync with her words. And he wanted to die. He took a long, deep breath.

"Um. Thanks for the lunch. I don't suppose you've also got a shirt for me?"

"Why would I do that? I _like _you shirtless. I think I'd like you even better _naked_…"

"_Enough_ already!" He shrugged again, turning his back and seeking composure in the blankness of the far wall. He needed to prevent this encounter from falling back into the absurd. "I guess I'll leave it to you to answer to Princess Pyro next time she wants to see me, um, 'properly attired'."

"Poor Sokka, caught between pleasing Princess Azula and pleasing me." Ty Lee pretended to pout.

He half-turned to face her, "Look. I don't care about pleasing _either_ of you, got it? I would just like something to wear. I'd think _you'd_ be more interested than I am in keeping the bitch happy."

"Oh, I care all right. Actually, though, she doesn't mind my being here with you at all. I'm very helpful to Azula, you know. She wants to keep _me_ happy, and she even said she didn't mind if you did."

"I did…If I did _what_?" He was confused. Even so, an idea was beginning to form.

"Make me happy, of course." Hadn't Azula said _he _was supposed to be a smart one? She was beginning to wonder. On the other hand, she had seen his muscles tense across his shoulders, and his sudden drawing up of the leg nearest her to rest a heel on the bench was obviously intended to mask other signs of his awareness of her.

"Really…" Now Sokka's brain started turning the idea around, considering it from a variety of angles as he also wondered just what it was about him that apparently appealed to this girl. "And you think I'd be willing to, um, make you… happy?"

She wasn't acting to throw him off balance. Oh sure, if the princess thought she had something to use against him, she certainly would. But this was simply too bizarre to be a plot. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way he could find some advantage for himself in it.

"Why not? I mean, you're in a bad situation, aren't you? So why shouldn't you take what pleasure you can get out of it? And if you're nice to me, think how nice I might be to you. I'll bet you'd like to be in a more comfortable cabin, maybe have something nice and soft to sleep on. I could arrange that," She smiled in satisfaction as she saw his eyes suddenly hooded in contemplation.

Ah. Finally. Surely he was drawing the appropriate conclusions from her words. "You already owe me, you know," nodding down at the tray between them. "How about a kiss? It's your turn."

He simply sat there for a moment, looking at her. His expression, grim and perplexed through most of their interview, had shifted into a blank mask. The dim light of the candles played across the planes of his face, the darkness of his skin accentuating its angularity and those strange blue eyes. Ty Lee felt another shiver go through her being. It was partially how different he was that attracted her. Like the circus, Sokka was exotic and strange.

Slowly, then, he nodded. "Why not?"

He reached out one of those strong dark hands towards her, catching the back of her head and pulling her to him across the now empty tray. His eyes locked with hers and then his mouth was upon her.

* * *

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this! Like a wolf unleashed, Sokka's mouth ravaged Ty Lee. Her hands leapt to his chest to push him away, but that hand on her neck held her close, and his other hand closed over both of hers, pulling them together and trapping her against him.

His lips consumed her. Then she felt his teeth pulling at her lower lip in earnest demand. She moaned as sudden weakness flowed through her body, and found his tongue instantly entwined with hers. It wasn't so much an exploration as an invasion, insistent, probing, and overwhelming. As her senses struggled to sort out this attack she vaguely recalled wondering, again, if Sokka approached everything _else _with the focus that he engaged in eating. She realized she should have been paying attention to the fierceness he had displayed then as well.

Then it was over. But before he released her Sokka pulled away slightly, tilting his head and bringing those teeth gently to bear on her nose, grazing the skin at its tip before closing his lips over them in a final, sure touch that left her reeling.

"Be careful what you ask for, Brat," he said as he pushed her away gently. His voice was faintly husky, but his breathing was perfectly even, unlike hers. "You may not like it when you get it."


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Now personally, I thought there was some nice symmetry in that last chapter with Sokka and Ty Lee's first encounter together. Perhaps Sokka was merely thinking of it as payback. And perhaps it may have occurred to him that he doesn't want to die a virgin. Well, not if fanfic has anything to say about it. But wait, I think I want to torture him some more myself._

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. Y'all can just back off now…

Chapter 6

Mai was taking an inventory of her weapons. That last battle had seriously depleted her stores, and while the ship's armory carried a good supply of various styles of throwing knives, the reality was that this was a _firebender _ship. And that meant there was no guarantee as to the quality of the weaponry on board. Firebenders were notoriously dismissive of non-benders' tools.

_Although they are certainly quick enough to take advantage of any advances in technology that allow them to export their hegemony_, she thought to herself.

Not, of course, that this was a problem as far as she was concerned. Her family had risen in the Fire Nation court on its ability to ride the flames with carefully placed words, astute judgments as to – donations – offered, and loyalties sealed. Far be it for her to tip the balance one way or another.

And, of course, Mai was herself drawn to the flame. She remembered having wavered between twin sets of amber light, head and heart in contention. And then the symmetry of one had been forever destroyed, a clear signal to follow her head's dictates.

A pity her heart still favored a syncopated beat.

But it was time to put in another order for her preferred, particularly well-balanced kunai and sundry darts, the ones made only in the Fire Nation capitol. It would take time for the shipment to arrive, but that is why it made sense to place the order while she still had several pieces for each individual sheath. She wrote out the order, and set it with other material waiting for Azula's seal.

As she carefully put the brush aside, she considered briefly how her counterpart was likely to be spending this time. Somehow, she doubted if Ty Lee's antics with the Water Tribesman would yield anything terribly productive. It did, however, keep the girl out of her way. Which meant that Mai would be able to devote some time to meditation exercises.

Mai found herself requiring such exercises more and more these days. No doubt it was the return to following in the turbulent wake of her school friend.

She caught herself with a mental shake – what on earth was she doing using a water metaphor in her thinking of the Fire Princess?

* * *

Azula had banished everyone from the stern deck area behind the command tower. It was not that she feared observation of any errors in her kata – there would be none. Nor did she concern herself over the potential hazards to her crew as she unleashed her famous cold blue flame or even more deadly lightning. Any such casualties were easily dismissed since their loss would be attributable to carelessness on their part – not hers – and thus good riddance. Personnel was, ultimately, expendable. While generally she had a fine appreciation for resources and good management, Azula had yet to meet anyone besides her father who was in fact indispensable to her. And someday – perhaps not too far in the future – even _his_ time would come.

It wasn't that Azula didn't love her father. Ozai was her sun, her idol, her perfect example. The perfect scholar, the quintessential fire-bender, the inspiring leader. He was all she aspired to be. And yet, he too had made mistakes. He had allowed sentiment and tradition to keep Zuko his heir for too long, had even failed to eliminate him when the fool and his weakness were finally exhibited to all. Ozai had failed to see the real danger in not assassinating his own brother when he took the throne; Iroh was and always _would_ be a threat.

Well, Azula was not so foolish. And if it was necessary – he just might make it necessary, of course - to eliminate her father when the time was right, then it was merely a matter of fire refining itself into perfection.

No, she had cleared the deck of all others because she wanted this time to be truly free of interruption while she considered her plans for subduing or, if necessary, destroying the Avatar. She wanted to do so while she worked through her exercises; she wanted the physical motions to be married to her goals and ambitions, to implant in her muscle memory all her aspirations. A trick she had taught herself at a very young age, it had an admitted tendency to falter if she could not maintain perfect attention.

Azula insisted on being perfect.

* * *

Sokka now lay somewhat sprawled across his cell floor, near the bench from which he had fallen when Ty Lee had flown at him with her paralyzing chi attacks. He had hardly even attempted any defense, fully aware that with the firebender guard outside the door he stood no chance anyway. Now he could barely move his head, and the rest of his body was completely numb; he thought one of his hands may be resting on the fallen lunch bowl and its detritus, but he could not swear to it. Maybe later.

In hindsight, he reflected that perhaps her response was perfectly predictable. On the other hand, it had been _so_ worth it! And it wasn't as if he'd had a lot of time to plan things out!

Sokka was shy on experience, but long on research; with Yue's passing he had taken every spare moment to avail himself of writings and drawings regarding romance and the art of love – the Earth Kingdom was well-stocked indeed on such 'treatises' (he'd have loved to tarry longer on what he had stumbled upon in the buried library, but some things time had simply not allowed. _And what that non-human knowledge spirit couldn't miss surely wouldn't hurt him_, he considered guiltily, remembering a couple of purloined items). Sokka's father had impressed upon him the value of being prepared. Given his own tribe's tradition was largely oral, and spirits knew Sokka was well versed in every tell and lay, he had to admit that a single picture was definitely worth a thousand words.

She had, after all, _asked_ him to kiss her. Why shouldn't he take advantage of such an opportunity to explore some of what he had absorbed with a girl whose good opinion he didn't give a damn for? And Ty Lee had… crumbled! He swore she had _whimpered _in his arms, and the only question was how to interpret that whimper.

It was, of course, reasonable to assume, given his paralyzed state and her storming off out the door, that she was in fact totally pissed off.

Sokka smiled. He'd been pissing girls off since his sister was born, and he'd yet to find many pleasures that exceeded it. When the girl he annoyed was a hated enemy? Paradise! Although, come to think of it, there was much to be said for the actual sensations experienced during the act of said annoying. Sensations that reminded him of kissing Yue, or Suki… and why he'd done all that research in the first place.

* * *

Ty Lee was _just _this bit shy of being giddy. She would not hesitate to admit that it had taken longer than expected to get her breath back after the Water Tribe boy's shocking response to her invitation to kiss her. Shocking in its thoroughness, its immediate assumption of command and lack of any hesitancy or faltering – after all, she would have _sworn_ he was an innocent novice from his earlier floundering and embarrassed avoidance of her advances…

But! As he had thrust his searching tongue within her willing mouth Ty Lee had fought to control her own desperate delight. Too much too soon! Of course, she had been taught the Water Tribes were degenerate,_ inferior_ even. So her interest in him was purely aesthetic – he was such a nice, handsome example of his tribe – but no doubt he was also weak. She knew he had been feeling angry and trapped, but she had no idea that men of the Water Tribes had such _fight_ in them. And that he would lash out like _that_ when given the opportunity…!

Ah no, it was _not_ what she had predicted – it was so much _better_! Subservience and supplication were fun and certainly satisfying, and how _very_ pretty it would have been coming from that surly, mocking mouth. But arrogant dominating passion in the face of hopeless odds was incredibly romantic and endlessly suggestive. Ty Lee considered herself something of a connoisseur. If he could do this, well! What more was he capable of?

Of course it had been necessary to subdue him afterwards. He was a prisoner, after all. It certainly wouldn't _do_ to have him think she could be won so easily. She couldn't, of course. And, she thought with some guilt, belatedly, she hadn't managed to get him to talk of the Avatar at all. Azula would not be pleased.

Ty Lee put a finger to her bruised lips and smiled. Poor Azula.

* * *

"I swear, I've been with the Princess since she left the capitol – well, you can't count that stint with her just traveling with those two freaky girls. They're as crazy as she is – _nobody_ heard me say that, now. Anyway, she's got this _kid_ out on the deck in front of her, and she's doing the imperial rag at him that, I swear, it has had grown men quaking in their boots.

Hell, she's killed men over under-cooked fish! So anyway, this kid goes all _'fuck you, lady_' at her and we all think, that's it, he's for the ash heap. And she _doesn't_ kill him.

Damn it, _I'd _have heated his fuckin' bath water myself, and given him my _uniform_ to dry off on, just for the sight of that vein throbbing on her forehead and _not_ seeing her blast him! I don't know what he's got going for him, but hell, more power to him."

It was a tiny group of Fire Nation soldiers gathered over the brazier that night, and not one hesitated to raise a flask in agreement.

* * *

It was interesting.

How many times now had she blocked his_ chi_, paralyzing him and relieving him of all feeling below his neck? Two, maybe three times now? And Sokka was ready to swear that each time he recovered _just _a little bit quicker. It was like that stupid giant mole-thing's venom, something to which the body could adapt. Sokka filed this information away as he absently licked sauce off his fingers from the dropped bowl. He'd be able to stand as soon as he could shake off that tingling feeling now running through his legs.

He spent an evil moment wondering if one reason Ty Lee had fled after paralyzing him was her knowledge that, as a result, he was impervious to any further blandishments she might offer.

And then he kicked himself for assuming that maybe her interest in him had survived his forceful assault on her. He thought he was wise enough in the ways of the female mind to know that any such assumption was sheer madness.

So, instead, he tried to consider what other options he might have for escape.

* * *

"Please, I'm sure I've heard this before. 'He's soo cute, so very manly, I thought I'd _die_, and then, ohhh, when the moment came…'"

Mai showed an uncanny skill at parody that Ty Lee did not appreciate. The girl's _affect_ was generally so flat, after all. Who could have imagined it?

Azula, on the other hand, smirked. So Ty Lee had lost no time in returning to the prisoner's cell, intent on exploiting her permission to dally with him to her heart's content. And returned with no more than, apparently, a kiss. And with that, Ty Lee was practically doing flips in ecstasy. A kiss! Surely the girl was too experienced to anticipate so much from so little.

Then again, Ty Lee _was_ experienced. For all Mai's teasing, the other girl did not, actually, regale them with orations on her lovers' charms very much anymore. It did occur to Azula to wonder if there was something unique to the Water Tribe… or, perhaps, this member of it?

At the same time, Mai was right: Ty Lee's gushing was tedious to listen to. There were only so many times you could listen to her speculate on the prisoner's, erm, potential attributes. She was half tempted to share with Ty Lee her healer's initial, _very_ thorough report on the general physical condition and health of this particular captive, taken when he was still unconscious. Except that instead of shutting up, the silly girl would probably have been inspired to suggest new rhapsodies.

However, if this foolish prattle would yield useful information she was prepared to indulge her friend. And Ty Lee did, on occasion, pick up the most _interesting_ information. In school, for example, Ty Lee's discovery of a liaison between the head-mistress and one of Fire Lord Ozai's most trusted generals had resulted in Azula gaining access to both advanced instruction on forbidden firebending techniques and the general's communiqués _before_ they went to her father. Useful, indeed. And all thanks to the indiscretions of said general's closest aide during an act of what Princess Azula couldn't help but consider _striking_ generosity on Ty Lee's part (she had said she enjoyed it and had no complaints about closets at all. Azula did not question her friend too closely on this).

"Dearest Ty Lee. How very interesting. Perhaps I should – verify – your speculations for myself. You don't think he might be trying to take _advantage_ of you, do you? I mean, you're so sweet. Such a soft touch."

"_Easy_, you mean," Mai muttered, under her breath.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Well, with a new semester my attention must return to my studies, so don't hold your breath waiting for updates on this. My schedule is hell and I don't want my family to forget what I look like, so I won't be spending much time playing with this fluff piece for a while. My apologies. On the other hand, if the muse does happen to bite me hard enough, I will have to respond just so I _can_ pay attention to other things!

And now we have another "encounter". This one of a different stripe.

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. Y'all can just back off now…

Chapter 7:

This time, when the door clattered open he didn't bother feeling surprised. Having run out of productive things to think about, Sokka was wondering if the _water_ spilled from his _first_ encounter with Ty Lee would be dry before the remaining _sauce_ staining the floor from the _second_ encounter crusted over. It was obvious no one was going to provide cleaning services. There had been a _lot_ of water, so it appeared to be a pretty even match-up.

He assumed the opening door was either bout number three with the Fire Nation Girl or his jailors remembering he was merely human, with the usual calls of nature to address. The timing seemed about right for the latter, given what little routine had been established during his time of incarceration.

So he was surprised after all when the firebender in the doorway tossed a loosely-wrapped package at him without warning.

"Two minutes. The princess wants to see you."

_-the hell?_ Sure enough, a grey Fire Nation undertunic lay within the wrappings. It was, of course, too large for Sokka's frame, although he was pleased to see he wasn't _that_ far from filling out the shoulders reasonably enough. Maybe his appetite was finally keeping up with his growth rate enough to give him some bulk along with height. _Okay, then. What could this be all about?_

A long straightaway, jog to the left and up a stairwell. Two more straightaways, jogs in alternate directions, with one four-step climb (what was _that_ about, anyway?) in between, and the longer set of stairs that led finally up on deck. Sokka looked around. The sun was at that point in the afternoon sky in which it seemed to hesitate the longest, etching the cleanest lines and the boldest colors. But Her Highness was not situated on the dais from his earlier meeting.

A shove and Sokka moved as indicated towards the central tower. A dizzying climb of four flights and he was pushed out onto what he assumed must be the command deck. Certainly the view from this expanse was commanding. He caught his breath as he caught himself on the railing overlooking a view of the bay, the surrounding mountains and, in the far distance, a haze in the sky that Sokka had learned to associate with the accumulation of a city's many cook-fires, etc. – the city of Ba Sing Se.

"It's nothing compared to the view I have from my balcony at home." Her voice was acid over his shoulder, and uncomfortably close. With a gesture, a brazier to her side sprang to life.

Sokka made a mental note of the princess's definite flair for a dramatic entrance.

He shrugged. Maybe he _was_ raised on an iceberg, but he'd climbed glaciers, fished among the sea's titans, and he was willing to place the southern cosmic lights against Fire Nation vistas or fireworks any time.

"Yeah well, you should probably go home then. Some people find the rest of the world a bit, I don't know, maybe overwhelming? Home is more… comfortable." That was good, he thought. Don't let her think she was dealing with a total rube.

That glorious afternoon light made her amber eyes glow, and he thought what a betrayal it was to the rest of nature to make the predator so beautiful.

And then he decided it was probably just a trick of the light. Light and dark, the constants in life. The inordinately long stretches of these constants available at the poles offered many suitable opportunities for contemplation during non-sleeping hours. _She is the tiger-seal, the skua-bear, the orca-shark. I've hunted them all and brought back my kills. This is just_ another_ hunt._

And an answering voice in his gut responded, _this time, though, _you're_ not the hunter._

The hiss of in-taken breath was almost a snarl. He counted it a win on his side.

"I see pleasantries are wasted on you. I suppose you're wondering why you're here?"

"By all means, let's _waste_ time on pleasantries." Sokka forced himself to relax his stance, leaning on the railing as if he were on a luxury cruise instead of a prison ship. "I like this time of day. Speaking of which, I'm kinda partial to sunlight and your cells don't get much. I'm thinking a change of venue is called for." He turned his back to the railing, resting his elbows and smiling blandly into those eyes. Oh yes, they were wholly predatory, but he couldn't help but think he caught something else there.

And Azula wanted to laugh out loud. It wasn't stupidity – it was _calculated_ arrogance! He was fully aware of her potential for killing him and had decided it was a risk he would accept. Marvelous! And the boy's strategic importance began to rate less than her determination to beat him down.

"Trust me, I'm _not_ stupid like my brother. Your preferences are not my concern, and your mockery is wasted." She hadn't really meant it to come out as a purr, but if he heard it as such, well, it wouldn't really matter.

"So now we've _both_ wasted something. All right, Princess, I'll bite. What am I doing here?"

"I want to share with you my speculations. You see, I expect you to comment on them, and based on your reactions I will decide which of my speculations are the most likely," she smiled sweetly at him.

Sokka shook his head ruefully, maintaining his posture against the railing. "You're all completely insane, aren't you? I can have _no_ possible desire to help you, and yet you people keep making absurd suggestions. _You_ made more sense to me when you talked about killing me."

"Then I don't need to remind you that I still may do so. It's up to you," Azula took up a position further down the railing lining the command deck. "And, of course, on my mood at the time."

* * *

He eyed her carefully. He felt himself at a crossroads here. So far, he had been attempting to convince the princess that he was no more than another follower of the Avatar, the one who 'was along for the ride'. By now, he thought, it was probably pretty well known that his only reason for being anywhere other than the South Pole was his connection with Aang, with the Avatar. And that was merely based on his having found the darn kid with his sister. And, if he were _wholly_ honest, it was only because he was with his sister when _she_ found him.

He ignored the reality that his decision to try to liberate Aang when Prince Zuko first took him away from the South Pole was made independently of Katara, that he had stood by the young monk against odds that scared him shitless, and that time and again he'd placed himself in danger, all for an ideal that honestly he'd never really believed in to begin with. But there it was. He _wasn't_ one of Aang's bending teachers. He was just his _friend_. In all that meant. It was none of the world's business if that meant sometimes doing Aang's thinking for him. It was _only_ sometimes, after all. It was unlikely that he was generally perceived as anything special on his own. So Sokka had believed he was always the least likely of targets.

Of course, it was this rationalization that their whole anti-hostage strategy had been based upon. The fact was, it _should_ have worked, if the world really believed that the Avatar's friends' value rested purely on his relationship to them.

Poor Sokka. It had never occurred to him that he might have value on his own merits. It did, however, occur to him that Princess Azula had already discounted the stupid sidekick act, and she had demonstrated on several occasions how her mind turned towards deceit. Perhaps it was time to play a straight card.

* * *

"But it's not going to work that way, is it? Because _I _only care about stopping you, and _your_ only interest in me is how I might be used against Aang. Fine, then. Speculate all you want, and draw what conclusions you may from my reactions. You'll have to decide for yourself how much you can trust them." His heart was thudding in his chest, but he held her eyes without wavering.

"No more games, then? Now, I _knew _you were a clever boy. Oh, my threat wasn't idle, you know. I _like_ killing people."

"Yeah, well, somehow that doesn't exactly surprise me. If there are no more games after all, I guess I'll be going now. Oh, and thanks for the shirt," Sokka pushed his elbows off the railing, his eyes already looking for the guard who had first led him here.

"Not so fast. Surely you don't think I'll let you go that easily?" The corner of her lips drew up in a smirk. She found herself actually enjoying his attempts to control this encounter. How many layers of deception was he capable of, anyway?

"I can always hope, can't I?" he muttered.

"So, here is my _first_ assumption. The Avatar will attempt to rescue you in a stealth operation. With a tiny force, he'll find his way on board at night, when he assumes the patrols will be lighter. He will sneak down to the holding cells, and liberate you, all without raising the alarm until it is too late, flying away on that sky bison." She ignored his comment, although his effrontery was beginning to amuse her.

Sokka snorted. "But of course, in fact you'll double the guards, although you'll hold them at bay until he reaches the cell, and when he gets there… Ah, right, it will be empty."

"Oh, I'm beginning to think I _like_ you after all, water boy. Where _are_ you?"

"That's easy. I'm dead. I've only been alive _this_ long because you needed convincing evidence to lure Aang to a rescue. You got that today."

This time Azula really _did _purr. It had, in fact, been her intent to kill Sokka tonight. Ty Lee had gotten her kiss and Sokka was right; she was sure he served no particular purpose anymore. "Actually, I'd planned to _triple_ them, since one wouldn't want to underestimate the Avatar or his _other_ companions."

"Triple, quadruple, whatever," Sokka shrugged, ignoring her silent confirmation of his own death sentence. "Aang took out a whole Fire Nation fleet. I'm not worried about him handling _this _barge."

"Even at the risk of your life?"

"I'm already dead, remember?" He smiled pleasantly. "If _I_ can figure that out, surely the others will also."

"Perhaps you _won't_ be. Perhaps I'll chain you to the bow instead, in full view of all comers."

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Oh please, _so_ much drama. You don't get it, do you? Oh, never mind. Do whatever. You will anyway."

The hesitation was slight, but he caught it before she palpably sighed, "_Don't_ make me tell you again, I'm _not_ stupid. _You _think that because it is likely that I'll kill you now your friends will assume a rescue attempt is futile anyway and so _won't _make one. You imply that my holding you is a waste of effort. _But_ if I really believe that I will _kill_ you, and you _don't_ seem bothered by that. So… _that_ means you know something you don't want me to know, _and_ it's worth your life to keep me from learning it. But you're _too_ arrogant not to let me know you've figured out my strategy. And _that_ makes me curious to know what else you're thinking. So perhaps I won't kill you after all."

"Great. Now, about that change of venue." _She'd figured it out, damn her. Well, best to continue to play as if nothing she said or did mattered to him._

"You're trying to distract me. Shall I run another scenario by you?"

"Whatever. I admit this is more entertaining than sitting in that cell and talking to myself." He yawned ostentatiously.

"Oh, I too am quite entertained. Is it your intent to amuse me or to infuriate me? Do you think, perhaps, that you can charm me? Dear Ty Lee finds you _quite_ charming." Azula deliberately trailed her gaze from his eyes down his form. She was rewarded by a faint blush stealing up his neck.

Sokka's muscles tensed as he forced himself to remember how he'd already worked out the likelihood not only of Azula's awareness of her lackey's actions but of her complicity in them. He had no need of embarrassment. He clenched his teeth behind his smile briefly.

"Yeah, well, Water Tribe charm is famous. I've only been blessed with a modest share of it myself, so really I wouldn't dream of trying to charm you…" _and I think I'm going to choke on the very thought of it!_

"Careful, Peasant. You _don't_ want to offend me now. After all, despite your efforts to convince me you are indeed worthless, and your willingness to provoke me with your mockery, I do believe you didn't lie when you said you had no death wish. You still hope to live."

"There is that thing about hope, you know. It's tough to let go of." This time Sokka's smile was that crooked grin that he was barely aware of, and all the mischief and self-awareness and unacknowledged pain of his brief life, combined with that half-admitted truth about Water Tribe charm – which had somehow convinced his sister to wash his truly nasty-smelling socks for years – gave a light to his eyes that caught Azula like a broadside.

"Forget it. Except that it would please me to make you watch as your friends, your sister, are put in chains beside you, I would kill you as you stand." Her tone and words were harsher than she had initially meant, still struggling with the unexpected effect of that smile.

"I could have sworn you said you liked me." The sulkiness of his tone was belied by a glint in those odious blue eyes.

At that she chuckled outright. Azula had been wooed for too many years at her father's court to be impressed by a fine figure or handsome face, and wealth meant nothing to her since she could command whatever she wanted. _Power _was, she thought, the only thing that could intrigue her, and so she had kept her eye on the rising stars within her father's legions. Now she found herself acknowledging that there may be other kinds of power. After all, her original assessment of this young man still held true. He was, indeed, dangerous.

Sokka was used to playing comedian without applause. Her smile was as frightening as anything she could have done to him, although a part of him would have admitted he was playing for recognition of the joke. What he did not expect was that she would have any kind of sense of humor at all. Of course, it was not like she'd outright guffawed. Well, she wouldn't, would she? She was a princess, bred to a higher level of refinement than the rest of them. Sokka drew upon his memory of his last private encounter with royalty, with Yue, and tried desperately to draw some instructive parallels. Ah hell. There _were_ none!

All he could do was try to put the laugh in the context of his earlier vision of the predator. She was playing with him. His job was not to attempt to save himself, but just to minimize the damage set up by the current situation. Perhaps, he could even counteract it. Of course, _that_ would take extraordinary luck.

Sokka hated relying on luck.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I suppose it was some combination of guilt I'm feeling at the long dry spell ahead between chapters, and the fact that my muse bit me in the butt after I finished my last chapter of "Passages." In any case, you are getting another chapter of "Cog" early. Lucky you!_

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others. (So what do those property-right holders think of all this, anyway?)

Chapter 8

And yet again, he was back in that dreary cell.

He was, actually, relieved given the several alternatives, including death. Much as Sokka had earlier rationalized his death as the likely best resolution to an unfortunate situation, he was in no hurry to leave this world for the next. And, given the reality that he'd already blown it in giving Azula proof that he was at least at some point her living prisoner, the odds were good that nothing would stop Katara and the others from attempting to rescue him. So actually, there was very little his death would accomplish. Which was, of course, the whole point in the death option's number one position, all things cosidered.

That said, it was reasonable to give full attention to escaping beforehand, since despite his brave words he was not at all sanguine about his friends' ability to effect a rescue without _someone_ at least getting hurt, maybe even getting killed or captured. _Damn it, Katara, at least have the good sense to keep Aang well away! We can't afford to risk him!_

He could hear her response in his head; something to the effect of 'what kind of world they were fighting for that left friends behind', or some similar sentimental sealshit. Something that would demonstrate _exactly_ why women and children should not be soldiers. He ignored the warm feeling the resurrection of his confidence such thoughts of his sister's attachment to him stirred in his soul, and the echoing stir of strength and determination that flooded his being.

Sokka considered this latest encounter with the princess of the Fire Nation and its probable consequences. He was reasonably certain Azula was no wiser than before regarding Aang's most likely mode of attempting a rescue. He thought he had played the game fairly well; _perhaps_ she was even seriously considering the possibility that Aang wouldn't even try. Of course, with this conclusion he realized that the question of his own continued life remained begging. Unless she intended to make good on flaunting his status (he internally cringed at the thought of her threat to chain him to the bow) he could think of no value she would place on keeping him alive beyond that of Avatar bait. Of course, doing so wasn't a wholly unlikely proposition – after all, it cost her little to keep him imprisoned, and the potential gain was great.

Since it kept him and the opportunity to maybe escape alive, Sokka decided not to push too hard in testing this theory. On the other hand, it certainly wouldn't pay to give the princess any reason to believe he cared one way or another. He strongly suspected that it was his ability to keep her guessing that was _really_ keeping him alive.

* * *

Azula found herself oddly exhilarated by her second encounter with the Water Tribe boy. The first had left her both annoyed and distracted, a feeling resolved by Mai's success in attaching value to the Water Tribe garb so easily removed from the boy's cell. That he should continue to defy her, to even dismiss her as … _irrelevant_ to him, even as fully aware of his fatal gaffe as he obviously was, was strangely amusing. It should have infuriated her, but it didn't. It was his _gall_, she thought to herself, and his ability to discount the prospect of his own death that _intrigued_ her.

Not that she hadn't run across fearless men before. She remembered very well Zhao in all his confidence. If she were honest with herself – and she was the only person Azula was ever truly honest with – she had encouraged Zhao's fearless confidence in ways not wholly becoming to a Fire Nation princess. Azula's lip curled in memory. The reality was there were no records on previous princess's private behavior, any more than there were records of her behavior, and who could really say that Azula was any more brazen than her predecessors? After all, wasn't power all about doing exactly what one wished? The truly powerful understood how to manage consequences. For example, Zhao had apparently taken Azula's _encouragements_ to his death without even a whisper upon her name.

And it wasn't as if she didn't have another rising star lined up to take his place. She had been watching Commander Boqin since before Zhao's passing, but her search for her father's quarry had left her with reports on this able warrior that arrived far less frequently than she preferred. So far, he had proven adept in positioning himself for advancement, and Azula admired ambition when combined with the intelligence and resolution required to achieve it.

However, neither Zhao nor Boqin had shown themselves to be fully cognizant of the reality of the potential for their deaths when they boasted readiness to embrace it. This despite that both were already men well past the blush of youth. Their stature had taken them long years to achieve. Both were too arrogant in their own successes to consider the possibility for failure, and thus make contingency plans for it. Neither saw any need to do so. Yet, in less than a year a non-entity of a southern Tribesman had become an advisor to a king, the confidante of a world hero. And nowhere is Azula's well-informed plans from throughout the Fire Nation was any hint of a plan to deal with this boy. Zhao was dead. If Boqin ever came to blows agains Sokka, so too might he be. Luckily, Azula had him in hand first.

Well, in all likelihood much of that was a matter of luck.

Still, it was a pity, she thought, that no one had yet emerged in her own generation at her father's court who could challenge her will the way this lowborn water peasant did. Frankly, he made them all look bad. Even her favorites seemed to pale a bit. Oh yes, Ty Lee was right, although not perhaps in the way she believed. This boy _had_ something. Something Azula wanted. And what Azula wanted, Azula got.

She indicated to her major domo that she would be taking dinner that evening in her private salon, and that she wished Mai and Ty Lee to join her.

She would encourage Ty Lee to entice whatever information she could from the prisoner, perhaps in the manner that had succeeded so well earlier, with Mai providing the actual filter as to what, if anything, of value could be garnered. Although, come to think of it, that might be difficult to orchestrate at this point in things. The princess decided to allow Ty Lee some additional private time with the prisoner.

* * *

For once, Mai wasn't bored; she was downright annoyed. Her anticipated meeting with Azula regarding Mai's disposition of the various matters of paperwork and operational details that had been allocated to her purview had been delayed by the princess's impromptu interview with the Water Tribesman. The second one of the day. Really, while Mai understood Ty Lee's fixation on the prisoner – well, "understood" might be going a bit far, but at least she was aware of the basis for Ty Lee's interest – she did not understand why the _princess_ felt any particular need to converse with him yet again. It couldn't be that he had anything of interest to say.

At first, Mai had thought that Azula meant to kill him, perhaps by sending him over the railing of the command deck with a lightning strike. It would have suited the princess's flair for the dramatic, regardless of inconvenience to the crew in having to hammer out dented decking or filing out scorch marks. But she hadn't.

And from her position in the pilot house Mai had heard snippets of the conversation between the pair. She had heard the princess grill the prisoner with scenario after scenario, citing exquisite forms of torture to be visited upon him and his various friends upon their capture. As far as Mai could tell, he had never lost his equilibrium, nor ever demonstrated any particular feeling one way or another towards her imaginative suggestions.

Mai remembered that at one point Azula had threatened to peel the skin from his bones to make her a pair of gloves – Sokka had responded with tips on appropriate curing techniques for fragile hides.

It was obvious to Mai that the entire interrogation had been useless.

Except, of course, that it _had_ been mildly entertaining. The boy had a wry wit that poked at the lethargy of Mai's own sense of humor, and she would have been lying if she'd said she didn't honestly enjoy seeing someone actually thwart Azula in her stratagems for once. And _damned_ if Azula hadn't opted to _not_ kill him after all. In the end, she had merely called for the guard to escort Sokka back to his cell.

Mai had gotten an additional kick out of spying a somewhat bemused expression on the boy's face, as if he himself could hardly believe he had survived the experience.

On the whole, it would have been a highly worthwhile experience if Azula hadn't then waived aside Mai's own concerns, saying they could wait for the morning conference.

* * *

The royal ship's galleys were in an uproar. Not that they weren't usually fairly contentious places. The princess was a stickler for all aspects of her diet, from content and timing to presentation. The current favored chef was aghast at the weeks she had spent with no more to attend her than the ladies Ty Lee and Mai, neither of which could boil rice to save her life, let alone prepare a succulent dumpling, poach fish properly or roast a duck. As for noodles or sauces? Horrors!

And then today the Lady Ty Lee had taken the newly prepared dumplings for the princess's dinner and served them to the Water Tribe prisoner…

The kitchen boy who had blithely filled the tray at the lady's behest had been soundly whipped afterwards, although from his expression both during and afterwards it was apparent that he was fully prepared to die should she ask a repeat of the favor, so really, what was the point anyway? Especially considering said boy's expertise – in the current wilderness – was simply beyond replacing. He was necessary for the princess'es happiness, and would thus likely survive any further misdeeds, at least until they could return to more civilized climes. That understood, all aboard focused themselves on remedying the kitchen boys depredations upon Her Highness's dinner menue.

Half a dozen workers had been sent to the beaches a few leagues along the bay to see if fresh shellfish could be gathered to make replacements, and a runner had been dispatched to purchase a couple of fat ducken that the second sous-chef was even now dismembering, after coating with coarse salt and pepper, as mushrooms were sautéed in rice wine and just a hint of sesame oil with garlic and green onion…

* * *

The Lady Ty Lee herself could be found in her cabin, surveying her wardrobe. It ran the gamut of colors from deepest salmon to palest pink, incorporating shades of coral, ruby and peach somewhere in between. Ty Lee had received an allowance from her family that covered much more than her living expenses since before her precipitous flight to join the circus some three years previously. This allowance had not ceased but in fact marginally increased when she changed her name to protect her family from any shame.

It didn't hurt that she had no brothers or even cousins in favor of which to be disinherited, and all sisters had already been legally, shall we say, re-alligned.

Said allowance had recently doubled when she left the circus to join Princess Azula's retinue. Ty Lee was no fool. Karma was one thing, but one had to live in the here and now.

As she changed from one outfit to another, she bemoaned her mirror's inability to project the shifting colors of her own aura against her reflection. It wasn't that she expected others to perceive the color of auras that she did – Ty Lee was perfectly aware that she had a particular sense developed far beyond most others' perception – but she couldn't help thinking that if she could balance out her wardrobe with her own personal aura it would translate as particularly appealing.

Well, who could tell her differently?

Ty Lee knew that Princess Azula had spent as much as an hour talking with Sokka after her own more intimate _tete-a-tete_. She also knew that she had precipitated the whole thing with her elegies on his graces after that first surprising kiss.

It was simple. She was by no means brilliant and had totally missed the significance of Sokka's earlier confession regarding his sister's sewing up of his outer tunic. But she fully understood that his value to Azula lay in his ability to lure the Avatar to her. Or in his shirt's ability to do so. At this point, he no longer needed to be alive to do so.

She would have liked more time with him, especially after that electrifying kiss. So, even though it meant possibly drawing a highly dangerous predator to the prey she had lain out the bait. And her dear Princess, who simply _could_ not ignore a challenge, had taken it.

Ah, and the dear boy had proven himself oh, so worthy, hadn't he?

The fact that he had saved his own life in the bargain was not quite the whole point. Really, Ty Lee's main concern was on how Sokka remained alive for the game with her. And Azula? Well, despite her rather pointed comments Ty Lee still couldn't help wondering if her beloved sovereign's interests might really lie elsewhere, which _should_ leave Sokka to her. After all, it wasn't really his _conversation_ that interested her.

Now then, was he still likely to have that lovely golden glow to his aura, or would it have paled to more of a butter yellow, and would that harmonize with peach, or would it better set off a coral tone?

* * *

The water had evaporated, leaving no stains to mark its presence. In his absence, the stains demarcating his lunch were also gone, along with the empty bowls, chopsticks, tray, extra lamp and even the stub of the day's candle. A new one was in place.

Sokka had to rely purely upon his memory for the day's events.

Before returning him to the cell the guards had taken him to the wardroom where he could relieve himself, and he'd noted the room's location at the level of that funny jog on the way up to deck. It suggested to him that the lower level of the jog was probably the high point of the water line. As he had suspected, the significantly lower temperature of the prison hold was almost certainly below that water line.

Which meant it was virtually impossible to get to from the outside. But it also meant it was potentially quite vulnerable to attack from within. Now _that_ was something worth remembering.

_A/N: As I started writing this chapter I was remembering the little snippet I'd included of the guard's ruminations on their prisoner, and wondered if I could insert something similar here. Immediately an image appeared of an outraged chef bemoaning the disappearance of one of the main dishes planned for Her Highness's dinner… And it made me giggle._


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So you've had a bit of a wait. Well, I did say with school starting again my attention would be diverted. Anyway, I wanted Mai to have a big part in this story, but I don't want her lusting after Sokka. Ick, doesn't make sense to me. So. What does? Well, you are about to find out. Lucky you! Now who didn't see this coming?

Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others, being a good law-abiding citizen and all…

Chapter 9

Frankly, Sokka's brain was tired. It wasn't the physical inactivity; his childhood had conditioned him to periods of relative inactivity as the storms battered the polar ice-caps (as opposed to those exhilarating times when the men of the tribe obeyed the commands of the hunt leader and muscle memory without thinking, matched against the leviathans and more predatory creatures of the deep). As for his brain, well, he had thought he was inured to the more constant challenge of his ability to think on his feet that had made up so much of the last months, but in retrospect he had to admit that he'd always been more the back-up player in the grand scheme of things. Of course, that meant when actually called upon he'd often had to provide direction on a moment's notice. But yeah, it appeared that he had something of a talent for that.

Still, the reality was that he'd never been called upon to tax his ability to assess and act on a given series of situations so consistently over such a short period of time before. Anyway, usually the focus wasn't on him. And that made it immeasurably easier to think!

On the other hand, when he thought about the possibilities as to which of his friends he thought might be better _suited _to dealing with this particular situation, he found himself oddly grateful to find himself here instead. Because again, all too frankly, while _none_ of them were prepared to cope, he _was_ probably the easiest to do without. And maybe, just maybe, his talent for creative thinking in a pinch might just match up to even all the Avatar's abilities…

Sokka's shoulders perceptively relaxed. He rolled them deliberately; having given himself a mental pep-talk he should probably start thinking about just how to use all that creative thinking he was so proud of to further a plan of escape. It was time to think. Speaking of time…

It was, he believed, after sundown.

54321

He couldn't know for sure. A cell with no portholes, some meager confidence of being held below the waterline, and thus well below the horizon, and that strange observation of the lowering sun from high above the ship's main deck, had all left Sokka with only the vaguest sense of the physical passage of time.

It was too early, he considered, for the guard to be considering dousing the single lamp now burning in his cell. He'd already received a meal more than he was expecting for the day. So, what _could _he expect to happen next?

He'd had to confront his captors three – no, four! – times already since maybe mid-day; most recently an encounter with the princess of hell herself. So it seemed likely his day with them was done. It had not, he thought, reflected all that well on him. But, on balance, perhaps he'd nothing to be too ashamed of. Sokka admitted to himself that his interactions with the fire ladies to date had been, well, interesting, to say the least!

Of course, once the thought was formulated, the cell door had to rattle. By now he had learned to note the sound with a certain dread.

And, of course, it _would_ be a helmeted fire-bender, his silhouette all the more formidable by the knowledge that Sokka would never see his face.

Ah but wait, this _was_ the guy who had heated the bath water, wasn't it? Oh yes, there was _something_ about his swagger that was vaguely distinctive, now wasn't there?

Still, it wasn't reassuring when he shoved Sokka out through the cell door, signaling a right rather than left at that first jog, leading him yet deeper into the bowels of the ship. Sokka's stomach fell as he remembered the princess's tacit admission of her intent to kill him.

_Crap! This is it, then, isn't it? No more games, no more clever dodges. Damn. What a fuckin' failure I've been…_

His steps deliberately slowed as he contemplated the various virtues of fighting a hopeless cause or facing his death with stoicism. It didn't help his state of mind to notice his guard was humming a recognizable air beneath his breath, whistling a bit on the high notes, but still quite melodic. Sokka's ear was good, and it briefly occurred to him that he could do worse than have this particular fire-bender sing his farewell dirge.

54321

The door that opened off the darkened corridor led into a room that seemed to span nearly half the ship's length and possibly two full levels of decking. It seemed inordinately generous for an execution chamber.

The presence of the taller, more starkly drawn member of the terrible trio in that cavernous chamber struck another odd note for Sokka; somehow she had appeared too fastidious to do someone else's dirty work. And Azula had admitted to enjoying killing people; would she really delegate such a pleasure to an underling?

Maybe.

Then again, the room itself was fairly easily identifiable as a training facility. A rack of weapons lined the far wall, which he doubted he'd have a chance to get anywhere near.

She-who-must-be-considered-master-of-all-things-sharp-and-pointy stood near the center of the room, hands hidden in her copious sleeves. Sokka heeded the fire-bender's equally pointed shove in her direction, not hastening his steps, but also not infusing any particular hesitation in them. He'd decided his best bet was to allow them no extra time to consider his movements, but still to grasp every instant of time that natural progression would allow him.

He was probably kidding himself but, hell, what were his options, anyway?

He stopped when the distance between them felt…could he call it _comfortable_? Well, at least, he stopped while still a good arm's length away. Surely that would have defined something of a comfort zone for her as well?

"Now what?"

Like most men, Sokka had been raised to greet his antagonist eye to eye. And so he'd noted with interest the distinctions between the broad-based warm-toned eyes of the Fire Nation as opposed to the myriad of hues between cobalt and teal to be found among the Water Tribes; he'd learned to appreciate the soft auburn of Kyoshi, the emerald of Ba Sing Se and the pale jade exquisite – and perhaps exclusive - to Toph.

And then, of course, there were Aang's clear grey eyes, darkening and clouded at times by fear and uncertainty, only to blaze an unholy white when the Avatar spirit came upon him.

Sokka had noticed Ty Lee's odd lack of expected pigment in her wide eyes, and suspected a strong element of air-bender background, either suppressed or formally denied. Ah well, given the century since anyone thought much about a Nomadic heritage, perhaps it was no big deal in the Fire Nation. And it was, after all, an easy assumption to make given her remarkable athleticism. He'd only seen its mirror image in Aang.

But Ty Lee's inegmatic gray eyes were not those he saw this night in the bowels of the Fire Nation ship.

As Sokka confronted Mai, his first thought was on how he could have missed her odd coloring, and where it fit in that neat compartmentalization he'd struggled so hard to maintain of the world's peoples…

Even as he noted the shadowed depths of the fire-assassin's eyes, she drew one arm from her voluminous sleeves to reveal the distinctive cold blue j-shape of his boomerang. It was unmistakable as the bright sheen of ambient light danced along its sensuous curves, interrupted by the shadows of carefully placed indentation and anchor holes, or polished and worn hollows from personal touch of thumb or palm…

…that found answering echoes in the calloused ridges lining his own hands, ridges built up over countless hours of practice reaching for perfection of aim and extension of reach by either arm.

He could not restrain a sudden hitch of breath at the sight, swearing briefly even as he processed this new information. Mai held her stance, and exhaled a sigh of satisfaction as she gauged Sokka's full recognition of his particular treasure.

"You… _She_ doesn't know… Ah, shit." Sokka sincerely regretted the time it took for him to realize that Mai had had his boomerang in her possession the entire time, fully aware of the consequences. He forgot any maggoty consequence her strangely dark eyes might have heralded in his understandable plunge into confusion and potential intrigue.

"Yes, 'I'. And 'she' _doesn't_ know. As for your lapse into vulgarity, well, I don't suppose you really expect a response to that," Mai intoned blandly, as she brandished Sokka's boomerang in one hand, a soft cloth in the other, with which she obviously intended to polish the weapon's surface.

"Does that mean you're gonna tell me what this is all about, or do I have to ask?" Sokka took hold of himself, aware that she had given him the moment to gather his senses together, and grudgingly grateful for it.

"It's no big mystery," the girl shrugged elegantly. "I have a… fondness for weapons. I collect particularly unusual ones. Do I really need to say more?"

"Oh," Sokka thought a moment.

"Actually, yes, you do. I mean, I can see then why you'd keep it and not tell the princess about it. Especially," he added with a grimace, "since as personal artifacts go it's really not much more help at convincing folks I'm still alive to be worth rescuing as anything else."

He paused. Mai's lip curled. It vaguely amused her to watch him attempt to contain his bitterness over his memory of their last encounter, and her obvious victory. She also appreciated that he did not attempt to deprecate either the value of his boomerang or her own interest in it for itself.

"But that doesn't explain why I'm here now. _You_ don't give a damn about rubbing my nose in your possession of it now. So. Your turn."

Mai's smirk relaxed. How nice that he understood how little she cared about his feelings. The Tribesman climbed up a notch in her estimation for his recognition of her professionalism. Now came the more distasteful part.

"I attempted to note the technique required for throwing the weapon in our last several altercations, but I admit I didn't quite get it," she said with a scowl. "And I still haven't managed it."

It was Sokka's turn to smirk. "You want me to teach how to throw my boomerang."

Mai's face became adamantine, and her voice answered the question he had framed as a statement. "Yes."

"Not a chance."

54321

He folded one arm over the other, keeping his eyes trained upon the obsidian gaze of his opponent. He had earlier noted that his fire-bender guard still remained at attention near the room's doorway, likewise noting how Mai had kept her voice low enough pitched so it was unlikely that the guard would have heard the details of her speech. He had subconsciously responded in kind.

Sure enough, Mai's eyes' darted to the doorway and back, but in no other way did she acknowledge the shift in the dynamic of this confrontation.

Sokka clenched his teeth, his lower lip thrusting out in obstinacy. It wasn't much, and a part of him itched to get his hands, even if just once more, on the cold steel of his beloved boomerang. But perhaps this refusal was the best he could do in a last act of defiance against the Fire Nation.

Mai gazed at him appraisingly for a heartbeat or six, then sighed heavily as she turned on her heel and retreated to a low barricade separating their part of the chamber from the greater length of the room, dotted here and there with crude, man-shaped models of various heights and poses. She buried throwing stars in the nearest figure and kunai in two staggered further back with a movement of one arm that seemed almost languorous.

"Whatever. Odds are you won't survive long enough to teach me anyway. Of course, if you do, I could make it worth your while…"

Sokka swallowed hard even as he fought with an upsurge of admiration for the Fire Nation girl's skill. As he processed her words and the final suggestion worked its way through the fear paralyzing his soul, it suddenly occurred to him that more than just the dynamic of this particular encounter had shifted almost imperceptively in his favor.

Now _all three_ of the Dangerous Ladies wanted something from him. While each had her own objectives, likewise each seemed prepared to discount the others in her pursuit of her goal. Ah, it was a virtual nothing to work with, but still… it might just possibly open a door for him to exploit, if he could just _think_ hard enough about it, and just keep his eyes open to the opportunities!

Sokka cleared his throat loudly. "Nice placement. I don't suppose you'd let me try?"

Mai turned her head, not bothering to raise her brows in askance. "Surely you jest?"

Now Sokka shrugged. "Oh _fine,_ if you're afraid I can disarm both you and Sparky back there before making some kind of spectacular escape under Azula's nose, don't bother. 'Ooh, gotta be careful for the scary Water Tribe prisoner…'" Waving his fingers provocatively, he injected what he hoped was the proper amount of mockery to tip the balance between pride and caution.

As expected, the Fire Nation girl strode back to stand mere feet from him, hands outstretched with a panoply of sharp instruments he'd never actually handled.

"Go for it, Water boy, I _can't_ wait," She said dully. Sokka duly noted the indifference in her bored voice as opposed to the speed of her reaction to his taunt. As he had suspected, Mai was all about misdirection and self-protection. Given her principal, it was a logical stance, and far more understandable than Ty Lee's. Sokka pushed aside his lack of comprehension of Ty Lee's motivations as he slipped into full attention of Mai's more rational approach.

Boldly he slid the various knives from her palms into his own, first meeting her gaze and nodding firmly as understanding seemed to pass between them. He gave a lop-sided grin as he held up first the throwing star, inserting his middle finger in the hole at its center and sending it to spin idly with his thumb.

"Okay, I've no clue how to manage this one, and as to how you sent a spread of them into a target even as you aimed the other knives elsewhere is way beyond me," he said as he slipped the star off his finger, letting its points rest between the first digits of the fingers on his right hand even as he palmed a kunai between his thumb and his first two fingers of his left, the other knives held aside by ring and pinkie fingers. With that, he hurled the kunai in his left overhand even as he whipped his right hand in a sideways looping movement towards the nearest model, not even a heartbeat between the two movements.

The star barely grazed the model, although it did force it a bit sideways. The kunai, on the other hand, knocked it over on its brace, and Sokka smiled in satisfaction, even if only internally.

Mai had returned her hands to her sleeves upon surrendering her prized throwing knives to the prisoner, second-guessing herself as a fool even as she refused to back down from the challenge. She knew she _should_ not find reassurance in the glance they shared as he took the weapons from her, but it was not her own competency, or the guard's nearness, that gave her confidence.

She believed him.

Hers were instruments he was wholly unfamiliar with. But he was obviously a practiced judge of weight and balance when it came to throwing things. Of course, she expected as much from someone who'd mastered the strange shape of the boomerang, and internally she gave yet another nod at him for not attempting to completely hold back in attacking with her own preferred weapons. The only question that remained was how much of his success was due to luck and how much to a conscious shading of his own ability.

Mai smiled internally, even as her face maintained its stony demeanor. She _liked_ this boy.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Whoa. So much to do and so little time to do it in – I feel very much like the proverbial white rabbit. I'd apologize for making you wait but, honestly, this is STILL at the bottom of the food chain. If this is a problem, guess y'all just have to find a way to deal._

_Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others, being a good law-abiding citizen and all…_

* * *

Chapter 10

Stretching her neck, chin tilted back, Ty Lee gracefully brushed the ball of one foot across the crown of her head. The other foot pointed skywards as she gripped the top rail of the command deck balcony with one hand, the other correcting her balance off the connecting wall. The pull in her arm muscles sent a pleasant tension all along her body, answered by a similar pull throughout the extended leg. Straightening the other leg, she allowed herself to bounce gently on the supporting arm, measuring her strength by her ease at keeping the rhythm slow, deep, and steady.

The distance down to the main deck added a nice thrill to the exercise, since a fall from this height would occasion severe injury if not death. A nice thrill, indeed.

Ty Lee wondered briefly if her penchant for seducing inappropriate young men might have its roots just as much in a fascination for thrill-seeking as it did in the pleasures of conquest and the flesh. Briefly, because Ty Lee saw little value in self-analysis.

Especially when there were other things to think about. Such as, where the hell was Sokka now?

After dinner she had thought she would have plenty of time to renew the exchange that had given her such delight, as much for his unexpected aggression as for the more predictable aesthetic satisfaction. However, the Tribesman was not in his cell, and the posted guard was equally absent. After an admittedly perfunctory search for the latter Ty Lee had assumed that Princess Azula had decided yet again to confront her prisoner. It was a conclusion that left her distinctly uncomfortable, but she was at a loss to imagine any alternative solution.

Adjourning to the galley, Ty Lee had proceeded to eat her way through a large bowl of dried apricots being reconstituted in a concoction of fermented apples, sea-salt and cane sugar, the errant kitchen-boy extolling the virtues of said mélange, drizzeling it with cream and cinnamon. Entranced by her evident enjoyment, he offered to coat sliced bananas (imported just that evening at great effort in anticipation of the princess's noted impatience with an unvaried diet) in a simple syrup flavored with almond liquor…

Ty Lee appreciated the kitchen-boy's creativity and daring. His willingness to flout not only the chef's ire but Azula's fury, all for the sake of a smile from Ty Lee, was _wholly_ charming. Such devotion was rare and, really, warranted at least some form of reward. Ty Lee resolved to consider the problem as she licked her fingers clean after consuming one banana slice. Honestly, Azula had something of a treasure in this boy. SOMEbody should take notice…

As he entered the galley, heading towards the hutch manned by a rotating cavalcade of minions minding an ever-present stew, to be poured over rice, either freshly steamed or warmed for hours (and thus inevitably scorched), but always available at any soldier's request, Ty Lee recognized, by his stance alone, one of the four soldiers detailed specifically to the Water Tribesman prisoner. It did not occur to her to wonder how she recognized a man without seeing his face; anyone who thought about it knew that facial characteristics were a tiny part of human recognition. After all, a girl who could see individual auras hardly had need to consider mere facial features.

* * *

He prayed to remain nameless. He cursed the instinct that had urged him to recognize the sense of brotherhood when the prisoner had survived his encounter with the fire-bitch to give him a truly hot – and therefore pleasurable- bath.

Worse, he cursed the day he'd seen the Lady Mai bury not one, not two, but _three_ kinds of knives in four disparately placed models in the training room. His horrendous imagination had immediately considered how gifted she might be at placing other forms of stimuli… And his combination of professional experience and a woeful lack of other, civilian experience, had convinced him that such a woman's control of possible gratification or pain was, potentially, infinite. For some wholly inchoate reason, he had found the idea of a woman who could accomplish such diffusion of deadly weapons infinitely enticing. In short, he was enthralled by the Lady Mai.

Being a reasonably intelligent young man, he found said enthrallment a definite reason to curse fate. And being a _young_ man, when it did occur to him to attempt to avoid or ignore the young woman who exercised such control he promptly dismissed the idea.

Likewise, it simply was not in him to be aware of the Lady Ty Lee's approach without a certain thrill of excitement even as he recognized a sense of trepidation.

* * *

She prided herself on her self-reliance. The Princess Azula needed no one and nothing. Ever, for anything. After all, the Wall of Flame demanded at least that much. Azula was eminently worthy of the Wall of Flame.

Notwithstanding all that, where the hell was a minion when you wanted one?

Of course, Ty Lee had scampered off to indulge herself with the prisoner. No doubt Mai was down in the hold, honing her assassin skills. Both were efforts Azula was prepared to condone.

And yes, dinner had formally ended; she had no real call for attendants. But, still, they should know to ask to be excused, damn it, and not just assume such would be the case. _Someone _had presumed on her indulgence. Therefore, _someone_ would be made to pay, and Azula didn't much care just who.

As she allowed her mind to consider possible candidates, she paused a moment to regret her brother's continued absence from her reach. When she was younger he had always proved such a satisfying target for her ire. Her one regret on his banishment had been his removal as the obvious object of her more malevolent stratagems. Which led her thoughts naturally to Zuko's own obsession, the search for the Avatar. It struck her as ironic that the obsession should transfer to her, and for once in her life she found herself wishing she had someone with whom to share such observations.

Still, such a desire was contrary to her ideal of herself.

One of the crones to whom her fire-bending training had been entrusted appeared in the doorway, her sister apparent as a shadow behind her. Azula's lips twitched. Generally speaking, these hags had more autonomy than anyone on the ship besides herself; she had found their wisdom extended far beyond mere fire-bending techniques, and she had granted them great latitude to encourage them to share it. Still, their temerity in exercising such autonomy could be grating, and when she had discovered what had prompted them to disturb her on this particular occasion Azula resolved that she would remind them who it was that actually was in command here.

She need look no further to vent her spleen.

* * *

Mai closed the door upon her cabin carefully, lowering the bar across it before turning to strip now sweat-dampened robes from her body. It had been an interesting if somewhat frustrating hour and a half. Her only real regret, however, was in the realization that it was highly unlikely that there would be many opportunities to repeat it.

In unspoken agreement she had first corrected his hold on the throwing star, surprised at first at his apparent lack of any preferred handedness. Almost instantly his proficiency improved, such that she was once again wondering if his earlier near miss with the star had been a deliberate ploy on his part. But the dogged energy with which he insisted on pursuing the exercise, switching from one hand to the other, convinced her otherwise.

When she had turned to the boomerang he acceded to her wishes willingly enough, and the assurance with which his long fingers closed upon the weapon reaffirmed her earlier assessment of his newness to her own knives.

First he had demonstrated a slow, short throw where the boomerang circled their half of the room lazily, pulling it out of the air again almost nonchalantly. When she took her turn it flew wildly into the side wall, causing the watching fire-bender to crouch into a ready stance and the Tribesman to chortle. Hurdling the barrier, he had retrieved the weapon and, stepping behind her, had taken her right hand in his, extending the other hand, still holding the boomerang, around her.

When she flinched he had looked at her askance, a scornful smirk marring his countenance.

"You wanted to learn, didn't you?"

Steeling herself to his touch, she allowed him to place her hand properly, turning her wrist and arm as he first mimicked a throw, then again a few times, and finally releasing the weapon to sail directly into one of the targets across the room, all the while keeping his own hand covering hers.

The boomerang had not returned, clattering to the decking, but Mai had known that it was within that movement that the road to mastery lay. It had felt _right_.

Sokka had then stepped back away from her, crossing his arms again and fixing her with a dark stare.

"More will cost you. Seriously."

He had simply watched as she spent the remaining time trying to repeat the throw over and over again. Before she'd finished she thought she'd nearly achieved that rightness of form, and been rewarded with a throw whose trajectory had been _nearly_ level, with the boomerang spinning evenly. It wasn't at all the deceptively slow dance that had so entranced her, but it was still encouraging.

She hadn't been able to resist glancing at him over her shoulder. He'd shrugged his own, the smirk still anchoring his lips.

Whereupon Mai had summoned the guard, ordering him to return Sokka to his cell.

Although she'd stayed yet another half hour, Mai had not managed to repeat that semi-success. It seemed she would need more tutelage.

He had been more clever than she had thought possible; cutting off the lesson exactly at the point wherein she would realize that only extreme luck would permit her to stumble upon the trick of it through simple experimentation.

As she bathed in the privacy of her cabin afterwards, Mai allowed herself to smile begrudgingly.

The Water Tribes may be primitive and degenerate (a part of her brain wondered aimlessly just how it was possible to be both, acknowledging yet again the self-serving tendencies of Fire Nation education), but it would be foolish indeed to assume they were without intelligence or… adaptability.

She found herself almost hoping that Azula had in fact overestimated herself for once.

* * *

Sokka settled himself lazily on the bench in his cell, letting his gaze rest upon the flickering flame of the lamp near the door.

It had been so tempting to simply run the sharpened inner edge of the boomerang across the Fire Nation girl's throat while he stood behind her, her attention distracted as he took her hand. But they had both known he stood no chance of leveraging such an act against the fire-bending guard to make good on an escape. Hadn't he brought up the point himself in accepting the terms of her proposition?

Since he'd known it would do him no good ultimately, it had been easy to cast temptation aside. That and the simple fact that he wasn't really so practiced in violence as to contemplate spilling blood from that white throat with any degree of composure. Especially given her willingness to trust him. But yes, there was no denying the temptation had been there.

Why _had _she trusted him, anyway?

He had thought it was simply one warrior's recognition of the codes that governed another's, but as he sat there he realized that this didn't make any sense. After all, in warfare there was no quarter given, and none expected.

So, damn it! What was it? Try as he might he could think of no other reason than that she had understood that to do what she wanted he would have to trust her. And there was simply no way that could happen without her first demonstrating a willingness to trust him. Just as she had risked revealing her possession of his boomerang to him.

Well, in that how much _had_ she risked, actually? Like _he_ would give her away to Azula?

So. It seemed he had built some fragile alliance with one of the Fire Nation trio. How fragile it was had been in evidence when the guard was summoned to take him away. She had held out her hand, palm up, without a word. Obligingly, he had deposited into it the remaining kunai and throwing star from his earlier practice throws.

"There is one star still missing."

"Perhaps you weren't paying enough attention to my throws."

A single corner of her mouth had turned up, and the thumb on her outstretched hand waggled suggestively. She said nothing more, but her eyes never left his.

With a sigh, Sokka had reached into his belt, retrieving the errant weapon.

"You _would _be one to count," he had hoped to disarm her with honest chagrin.

Her only answer had been the brief upward turn of the other corner of her mouth before she turned her back upon him.

At least she was no further forward in learning to throw his boomerang, he thought to himself_. I still hold the upper hand there. And when she seeks me out again, I won't accept a mere chance to play with knives as payment! _

That_ was just the teaser!_

* * *

Ty Lee returned to her own cabin, her tongue flicking at the corner of her mouth in unconscious search of a hint of the sweetness from her earlier snack even as she contemplated the revelations of the off-duty guard. She now knew where her Sokka had been when she had gone looking for him after dinner, and while she took certain pleasure in knowing he was once again within easy reach this most recent development warranted thinking upon.

Well, actually, there were several developments to consider. The first, most obvious and potentially threatening to her own agenda was Mai's apparent interest in the Water Tribe prisoner. Now, here she had thought her friend could be counted upon to keep her nose out of all aspects regarding Sokka's imprisonment. After all, Mai never showed any interest in anything!

It was, of course, possible that Azula had asked Mai to attempt her own line of interrogation. After all, the princess had taken it upon herself to see him, and Azula was _very_ difficult to predict. Of course, since Azula hadn't actually said anything to Ty Lee about such a tactic, it probably wouldn't do to question her on it. Even so, Ty Lee would need to keep a closer eye on her two friends. It might be a bit awkward should one or more of them turn up just when things were, say, getting interesting.

Ty Lee rather hoped her assessment of Mai's activities was accurate. It was bad enough that _Azula_ had shown a very real interest in Sokka. It had something to do with power or domination – everything always did with Azula – and Ty Lee generally knew how to manage that. This interest could even work to her advantage in that it might well keep Sokka alive long enough for Ty Lee to enjoy some real contact with him.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Whoa. So much to do and so little time to do it in – I feel very much like the proverbial white rabbit. I'd apologize for making you wait but, honestly, this is STILL at the bottom of the food chain. If this is a problem, guess y'all just have to find a way to deal._

_Disclaimer: Well of course I don't own these characters or their universe. I just plays with them to suit my fancy, and respect all property rights held by others, being a good law-abiding citizen and all…_

* * *

Chapter 10

Stretching her neck, chin tilted back, Ty Lee gracefully brushed the ball of one foot across the crown of her head. The other foot pointed skywards as she gripped the top rail of the command deck balcony with one hand, the other correcting her balance off the connecting wall. The pull in her arm muscles sent a pleasant tension all along her body, answered by a similar pull throughout the extended leg. Straightening the other leg, she allowed herself to bounce gently on the supporting arm, measuring her strength by her ease at keeping the rhythm slow, deep, and steady.

The distance down to the main deck added a nice thrill to the exercise, since a fall from this height would occasion severe injury if not death. A nice thrill, indeed.

Ty Lee wondered briefly if her penchant for seducing inappropriate young men might have its roots just as much in a fascination for thrill-seeking as it did in the pleasures of conquest and the flesh. Briefly, because Ty Lee saw little value in self-analysis.

Especially when there were other things to think about. Such as, where the hell was Sokka now?

After dinner she had thought she would have plenty of time to renew the exchange that had given her such delight, as much for his unexpected aggression as for the more predictable aesthetic satisfaction. However, the Tribesman was not in his cell, and the posted guard was equally absent. After an admittedly perfunctory search for the latter Ty Lee had assumed that Princess Azula had decided yet again to confront her prisoner. It was a conclusion that left her distinctly uncomfortable, but she was at a loss to imagine any alternative solution.

Adjourning to the galley, Ty Lee had proceeded to eat her way through a large bowl of dried apricots being reconstituted in a concoction of fermented apples, sea-salt and cane sugar, the errant kitchen-boy extolling the virtues of said mélange, drizzeling it with cream and cinnamon. Entranced by her evident enjoyment, he offered to coat sliced bananas (imported just that evening at great effort in anticipation of the princess's noted impatience with an unvaried diet) in a simple syrup flavored with almond liquor…

Ty Lee appreciated the kitchen-boy's creativity and daring. His willingness to flout not only the chef's ire but Azula's fury, all for the sake of a smile from Ty Lee, was _wholly_ charming. Such devotion was rare and, really, warranted at least some form of reward. Ty Lee resolved to consider the problem as she licked her fingers clean after consuming one banana slice. Honestly, Azula had something of a treasure in this boy. SOMEbody should take notice…

As he entered the galley, heading towards the hutch manned by a rotating cavalcade of minions minding an ever-present stew, to be poured over rice, either freshly steamed or warmed for hours (and thus inevitably scorched), but always available at any soldier's request, Ty Lee recognized, by his stance alone, one of the four soldiers detailed specifically to the Water Tribesman prisoner. It did not occur to her to wonder how she recognized a man without seeing his face; anyone who thought about it knew that facial characteristics were a tiny part of human recognition. After all, a girl who could see individual auras hardly had need to consider mere facial features.

* * *

He prayed to remain nameless. He cursed the instinct that had urged him to recognize the sense of brotherhood when the prisoner had survived his encounter with the fire-bitch to give him a truly hot – and therefore pleasurable- bath.

Worse, he cursed the day he'd seen the Lady Mai bury not one, not two, but _three_ kinds of knives in four disparately placed models in the training room. His horrendous imagination had immediately considered how gifted she might be at placing other forms of stimuli… And his combination of professional experience and a woeful lack of other, civilian experience, had convinced him that such a woman's control of possible gratification or pain was, potentially, infinite. For some wholly inchoate reason, he had found the idea of a woman who could accomplish such diffusion of deadly weapons infinitely enticing. In short, he was enthralled by the Lady Mai.

Being a reasonably intelligent young man, he found said enthrallment a definite reason to curse fate. And being a _young_ man, when it did occur to him to attempt to avoid or ignore the young woman who exercised such control he promptly dismissed the idea.

Likewise, it simply was not in him to be aware of the Lady Ty Lee's approach without a certain thrill of excitement even as he recognized a sense of trepidation.

* * *

She prided herself on her self-reliance. The Princess Azula needed no one and nothing. Ever, for anything. After all, the Wall of Flame demanded at least that much. Azula was eminently worthy of the Wall of Flame.

Notwithstanding all that, where the hell was a minion when you wanted one?

Of course, Ty Lee had scampered off to indulge herself with the prisoner. No doubt Mai was down in the hold, honing her assassin skills. Both were efforts Azula was prepared to condone.

And yes, dinner had formally ended; she had no real call for attendants. But, still, they should know to ask to be excused, damn it, and not just assume such would be the case. _Someone _had presumed on her indulgence. Therefore, _someone_ would be made to pay, and Azula didn't much care just who.

As she allowed her mind to consider possible candidates, she paused a moment to regret her brother's continued absence from her reach. When she was younger he had always proved such a satisfying target for her ire. Her one regret on his banishment had been his removal as the obvious object of her more malevolent stratagems. Which led her thoughts naturally to Zuko's own obsession, the search for the Avatar. It struck her as ironic that the obsession should transfer to her, and for once in her life she found herself wishing she had someone with whom to share such observations.

Still, such a desire was contrary to her ideal of herself.

One of the crones to whom her fire-bending training had been entrusted appeared in the doorway, her sister apparent as a shadow behind her. Azula's lips twitched. Generally speaking, these hags had more autonomy than anyone on the ship besides herself; she had found their wisdom extended far beyond mere fire-bending techniques, and she had granted them great latitude to encourage them to share it. Still, their temerity in exercising such autonomy could be grating, and when she had discovered what had prompted them to disturb her on this particular occasion Azula resolved that she would remind them who it was that actually was in command here.

She need look no further to vent her spleen.

* * *

Mai closed the door upon her cabin carefully, lowering the bar across it before turning to strip now sweat-dampened robes from her body. It had been an interesting if somewhat frustrating hour and a half. Her only real regret, however, was in the realization that it was highly unlikely that there would be many opportunities to repeat it.

In unspoken agreement she had first corrected his hold on the throwing star, surprised at first at his apparent lack of any preferred handedness. Almost instantly his proficiency improved, such that she was once again wondering if his earlier near miss with the star had been a deliberate ploy on his part. But the dogged energy with which he insisted on pursuing the exercise, switching from one hand to the other, convinced her otherwise.

When she had turned to the boomerang he acceded to her wishes willingly enough, and the assurance with which his long fingers closed upon the weapon reaffirmed her earlier assessment of his newness to her own knives.

First he had demonstrated a slow, short throw where the boomerang circled their half of the room lazily, pulling it out of the air again almost nonchalantly. When she took her turn it flew wildly into the side wall, causing the watching fire-bender to crouch into a ready stance and the Tribesman to chortle. Hurdling the barrier, he had retrieved the weapon and, stepping behind her, had taken her right hand in his, extending the other hand, still holding the boomerang, around her.

When she flinched he had looked at her askance, a scornful smirk marring his countenance.

"You wanted to learn, didn't you?"

Steeling herself to his touch, she allowed him to place her hand properly, turning her wrist and arm as he first mimicked a throw, then again a few times, and finally releasing the weapon to sail directly into one of the targets across the room, all the while keeping his own hand covering hers.

The boomerang had not returned, clattering to the decking, but Mai had known that it was within that movement that the road to mastery lay. It had felt _right_.

Sokka had then stepped back away from her, crossing his arms again and fixing her with a dark stare.

"More will cost you. Seriously."

He had simply watched as she spent the remaining time trying to repeat the throw over and over again. Before she'd finished she thought she'd nearly achieved that rightness of form, and been rewarded with a throw whose trajectory had been _nearly_ level, with the boomerang spinning evenly. It wasn't at all the deceptively slow dance that had so entranced her, but it was still encouraging.

She hadn't been able to resist glancing at him over her shoulder. He'd shrugged his own, the smirk still anchoring his lips.

Whereupon Mai had summoned the guard, ordering him to return Sokka to his cell.

Although she'd stayed yet another half hour, Mai had not managed to repeat that semi-success. It seemed she would need more tutelage.

He had been more clever than she had thought possible; cutting off the lesson exactly at the point wherein she would realize that only extreme luck would permit her to stumble upon the trick of it through simple experimentation.

As she bathed in the privacy of her cabin afterwards, Mai allowed herself to smile begrudgingly.

The Water Tribes may be primitive and degenerate (a part of her brain wondered aimlessly just how it was possible to be both, acknowledging yet again the self-serving tendencies of Fire Nation education), but it would be foolish indeed to assume they were without intelligence or… adaptability.

She found herself almost hoping that Azula had in fact overestimated herself for once.

* * *

Sokka settled himself lazily on the bench in his cell, letting his gaze rest upon the flickering flame of the lamp near the door.

It had been so tempting to simply run the sharpened inner edge of the boomerang across the Fire Nation girl's throat while he stood behind her, her attention distracted as he took her hand. But they had both known he stood no chance of leveraging such an act against the fire-bending guard to make good on an escape. Hadn't he brought up the point himself in accepting the terms of her proposition?

Since he'd known it would do him no good ultimately, it had been easy to cast temptation aside. That and the simple fact that he wasn't really so practiced in violence as to contemplate spilling blood from that white throat with any degree of composure. Especially given her willingness to trust him. But yes, there was no denying the temptation had been there.

Why _had _she trusted him, anyway?

He had thought it was simply one warrior's recognition of the codes that governed another's, but as he sat there he realized that this didn't make any sense. After all, in warfare there was no quarter given, and none expected.

So, damn it! What was it? Try as he might he could think of no other reason than that she had understood that to do what she wanted he would have to trust her. And there was simply no way that could happen without her first demonstrating a willingness to trust him. Just as she had risked revealing her possession of his boomerang to him.

Well, in that how much _had_ she risked, actually? Like _he_ would give her away to Azula?

So. It seemed he had built some fragile alliance with one of the Fire Nation trio. How fragile it was had been in evidence when the guard was summoned to take him away. She had held out her hand, palm up, without a word. Obligingly, he had deposited into it the remaining kunai and throwing star from his earlier practice throws.

"There is one star still missing."

"Perhaps you weren't paying enough attention to my throws."

A single corner of her mouth had turned up, and the thumb on her outstretched hand waggled suggestively. She said nothing more, but her eyes never left his.

With a sigh, Sokka had reached into his belt, retrieving the errant weapon.

"You _would _be one to count," he had hoped to disarm her with honest chagrin.

Her only answer had been the brief upward turn of the other corner of her mouth before she turned her back upon him.

At least she was no further forward in learning to throw his boomerang, he thought to himself_. I still hold the upper hand there. And when she seeks me out again, I won't accept a mere chance to play with knives as payment! _

That_ was just the teaser!_

* * *

Ty Lee returned to her own cabin, her tongue flicking at the corner of her mouth in unconscious search of a hint of the sweetness from her earlier snack even as she contemplated the revelations of the off-duty guard. She now knew where her Sokka had been when she had gone looking for him after dinner, and while she took certain pleasure in knowing he was once again within easy reach this most recent development warranted thinking upon.

Well, actually, there were several developments to consider. The first, most obvious and potentially threatening to her own agenda was Mai's apparent interest in the Water Tribe prisoner. Now, here she had thought her friend could be counted upon to keep her nose out of all aspects regarding Sokka's imprisonment. After all, Mai never showed any interest in anything!

It was, of course, possible that Azula had asked Mai to attempt her own line of interrogation. After all, the princess had taken it upon herself to see him, and Azula was _very_ difficult to predict. Of course, since Azula hadn't actually said anything to Ty Lee about such a tactic, it probably wouldn't do to question her on it. Even so, Ty Lee would need to keep a closer eye on her two friends. It might be a bit awkward should one or more of them turn up just when things were, say, getting interesting.

Ty Lee rather hoped her assessment of Mai's activities was accurate. It was bad enough that _Azula_ had shown a very real interest in Sokka. It had something to do with power or domination – everything always did with Azula – and Ty Lee generally knew how to manage that. This interest could even work to her advantage in that it might well keep Sokka alive long enough for Ty Lee to enjoy some real contact with him.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: I was reminded that I have no real clue as to what is appropriate for teenagers to read, so I've changed the rating on this to "M". Damnit, I don't want my 11-year-old speculating on the possibilities. (I still swear he'd be clueless)_

_Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. Just cuz I don't own the characters does not mean I can't speculate on their actions; although admittedly posting such speculations does present a conundrum at law. But, since I'm claiming nothing in the way of rights or remedies, I'm sure we don't need to go there…_

* * *

Chapter 12

Azula ran through her memory of the interview with the Water Tribe prisoner one last time, gently inhaling the sweet perfume of the jasmine tea in the shallow cup before her. Uncle Iroh was, in many ways, a fool, but he had not been wrong when he'd explained how certain scents could assist the mind in seeking clarity, just as others were useful in providing a heady enhancement to those particular passions that served to focus attention elsewhere.

Her uncle, being something of a hedonist, had who knew what pleasures in mind when he'd mouthed this wisdom. Knowing her uncle, he'd also probably been perfectly aware that certain scents could also enhance fire-bending…

She ignored the momentary heightening of her heartbeat as she entertained thoughts of Iroh's possible inspiration, disciplining her mind to allow the slow wash of memory to permeate all of her consideration of the boy's words and body language…

With a sudden snort of irritation, Azula searched her perfect retention for the prisoner's name. Sokka.

Two meaningless syllables that served to bring forth a vision of an alien young man, his mocking smile and cold blue eyes. Azula was relatively pleased that she had managed to draw all this out from her memory even as some tiny part of her mind suggested that she couldn't recall the face, let alone the name, of the highly talented chef whose dessert creation that evening had left her almost moaning aloud her delight. In response, yet another part of her brain reminded her pleasure center how little such pleasure was dependent upon any particular individual.

An older, wiser individual, Iroh perhaps, would have been tempted to remind Azula that wasting the gifts of others rarely yielded any possible benefit, but even Uncle Iroh had long recognized the futility of bringing some aspects of wisdom to the young princess's attention.

In any case, Azula was almost purring. Rather than being enraged at the lack of discernible information she had gleaned from her interview with Sokka, she was well content. Admittedly, for the first half-hour or so she had merely pretended to be satisfied with the results of their encounter. But by dinner's end she had convinced herself that she had asserted the upper hand with the flippant peasant, and that all of his responses could be gauged in the context of his very real fear of her.

She sipped again at her tea.

When plotted against the "Y" axis of his anticipation of her response to the "X" axis of his or the Avatar's actions, Azula was confident that she could predict at least three appropriate attacks for each possible rescue effort on the part of the Avatar and his friends.

The only thing that gave her the slightest hesitation was the simple fact that when she had suggested but a few of these possibilities in her interview with him, Sokka's responses had been almost perfectly in line with her expectations.

Which _should_ have been completely reassuring.

But there was something about this boy that raised her hackles. Those responses had been so perfect that, in fact, they had left no room for deviations within the margin of error.

Well, that was not precisely the case. Where his responses did not conform to expectation was, in fact, not only _not_ within her predicted parameters, but sometimes seemed wholly out of proportion, and others purely quixotic. The randomness of this was clearly not random and, in fact, blatantly deliberate.

Azula considered again the bland darkness of those blue eyes, the curl of his lip as he mouthed responses to her questions and comments. Shit. How many times had he expected her to do this before picking up on his game?

Not that it mattered. The point was, she couldn't really trust anything he had said.

It was patently impossible.

This was an adolescent peasant from a near extinct culture. There was simply no possible way he had managed to outwit her. And yet…

…because he had made it so damned obvious he was also clearly laughing at her.

The pattern the tea-stain of a nearly full shattered pot against the tapestried wall might have been suggestively satisfying to the school of art espousing expressionism currently in favor in Fire Nation Academic circles. Alas, it would never see such light.

Upon recognition that she had allowed her temper to overcome her breeding during the ritual of evening tea, Azula had blistered the unhappy wall with a bolt of blue lightning. The left engine experienced a rough hiccough as the surge of sudden power interfered with the carefully calculated register of fuel to energy output, killing the engine even as current flowed down and out through the metal hulling. Those not touching the walls were favored with a lack of awareness of this event, thanks to the practice of loose deck riveting to allow for metal's shifting swelling and contractions as the ship entered seas with changing temperatures.

Some few who happened to be leaning against the outer wall experienced a shock that, if they were lucky, merely curled their hair, or less happily, upset their heart rhythms such that they experienced odd periods of exhaustion from time to time, even some years thereafter.

Only one poor sailor actually experienced heart failure.

Sokka was lucky. His cell was on the right side of the ship, and water-proofing practices in Fire Nation ship-building had resulted in an insulation material inserted between each side of the ship that happened to be non-conductive.

* * *

She had lifted her feet reflexively, even knowing that doing so at this time was evidence that the need to do so had passed. Mai was too much of a professional to fight her body's natural instincts, even as her mind processed the signs of another electrical fit by the princess.

Mai had taken the precaution of arranging for a thick coir-lined carpet running the length of her cabin within days of taking up abode on the princess's ship. She'd cared nothing for the color or pattern decorating the rug's surface, being more concerned with the layers of material insulating her from the current conducted throughout the hull on the side of the ship's living quarters that she'd shared with the princess. Azula's frightening expertise with the power generally granted only the heavens had given her pause only briefly, just long enough to consider means to arm against it. It wasn't her business to question the origin of her mistress's power. But only a fool would overlook the potential for her principal's strike against her, even accidentally.

Mai remembered singed bangs and soaked garments from being a fool around Azula.

As the hairs settled back down on her neck she wondered what new annoyance had been sufficient to concentrate Azula's energies into a crippling lightning strike. Not that it took much these days. Her highness relished unleashing this particular expertise, its newness still intoxicating. Mai shrugged as she considered her own exhilaration that time with the boomerang, despite the Water Tribe boy's hand at her elbow, his knee nudging her leg to bend for the proper flow of energy, and his other hand all too familiarly at her waist…

The exhilaration had been from the success of the throw.

She'd only been aware of, and intensely uncomfortable about, his proximity to her vulnerable points immediately afterwards. Well, and before, of course, because of how dangerous it was to allow an enemy to get so close and…oh, shit. Nothing was more stupid than trying to fool herself.

Mai had made a decision to trust Sokka as soon as he'd given her any indication that he would show her how to use the boomerang. Azula be damned, the cold steel of that oddly angled weapon had seduced her from the moment she'd seen it return to its master's hand, months back in Omashu.

That the master was an ocean-eyed stranger no older than herself added piquancy to the weapon's edge. But it would take more than odd blue eyes to make her heart quake the way a beautifully wielded weapon ever could. Mai deliberately turned a blind eye to the expertise of the wielding of a particular weapon by an individual with eyes coolly-pigmented.

She assured herself that the acknowledged taste of her partner in Azula's service for those cerulean eyes had freed her from any susceptibility to their charm. And he himself had seemed oblivious to the possibility.

Well, damn. It occurred to her suddenly that this probably wasn't such a good thing.

* * *

This really, really wasn't such a good thing.

"Opportunities come…," he thought, when he could manage coherent thought, and he fought a valiant battle with himself to maintain such while virtually every nerve ending suggested that this was exactly what was meant by some other generation's simply 'going with the flow'.

It could have been his father's generation.

Sokka cringed as it occurred to him that Gran-Gran may also have breathed the same at one point. _And when these moments came_, he told himself, _ya gotta grab' em by the short hairs!_

…or die, wishing you had had the courage to do so.

Even as each had verbally each fought for some form of dominance, the two had made the apparently open engagement of intimacy yet another battlefield.

* * *

The guard outside the cell had decided the situation warranted stepping well down the corridor, not wanting to embarrass himself with the scorn of being considered some kind of voyeur. After all, the Fire Princess herself had sanctioned her ladies' investigations into the Water Tribe prisoner. All in aid of final victory.

But damn it, lines needed to be drawn, for the sake of morale if not for decency.

It really didn't help that a couple members of the guard had experienced the pleasure of Lady Ty Lee's investigations themselves. One could not doubt her… thoroughness.

But these investigations did somewhat beg the question as to their ultimate effectiveness.

After all, while one's own loyalty was without question, one couldn't help but wonder how devotion to satisfying the expectations (one couldn't call such enjoyable requests demands, after all) of even someone so close to the throne, really alleviated any suspicions.

But then, it wasn't a soldier's lot to question such things, now was it?

* * *

Not being a soldier, exactly, she quarreled fiercely with the thought of succumbing to the force of an enemy onslaught.

Ty Lee giggled, the onslaught on her person consisting of one personable young man's lips tracing perhaps previously explored but unmapped trails across her person with the lips and diligence of an engineer – or perhaps a lover, but that's a tale untold.

When he abruptly paused, citing teasingly a snafu in border negotiations she laughed outright.

As part of these unsanctioned explorations he had ceased to clutch her near hand in a crushing grip, moving instead to gently tease at the fabric covering her breast, raising a tiny but perceptibly swollen peak. At heart, neither had been surprised when her freed limb, finally regaining its own sense of touch, had chosen to linger like some mindless puppet across the tendons tracing his own fingers.

Mindless, except that as her tiny hand closed, intertwining fingers among his much larger and longer ones upon her breast in a grip surprisingly hard, she moaned deeply. And Sokka's fingers trembled, without clutching.

Ty Lee seethed. Sokka's "snafu" in negotiations had refused to be resolved, for all her teasing blandishments. The Water boy's jaw had clenched, and he had suddenly released every grip upon her body, challenging her to defy his resolve.

Her own jaw initially clenched, she had remained in his lap, trailing one hand down his chest and along his groin, her lips and tongue tracing erotic patterns not just across his angular face but down his throat and along his chest, bared by the questing fingers of one hand. She'd felt his heart race and the firmness beneath her thighs assert itself with prominence, but those muscled arms hung slack across the cell bench, and those alien blue eyes that had so fascinated her darkened yet more deeply, in a way she had earlier interpreted as mere lust but now also hinting of marine depths inhabited by grim-toothed monsters.

She knew he was aware of her, knew she'd promised full access to her person and knew he was not indifferent to the promise. And equally she knew he'd evaluated her promise and found it lacking.

What good was threatening paralysis in the face of studied indifference?

* * *

Sokka burned. His chances of surviving this whole affair were nil, and thanks to nothing more than his own stubbornness he was going to die a virgin.

This bizarre Fire Nation girl apparently was looking for someone new and different to get her jollies from – he simply couldn't imagine why the hell else she kept finding her way to his cell – and for all his nasty threats and physical abuse still seemed interested. Out of some misguided sense of his own prowess as a spy he had had to push it by insisting on an upgrade in accommodations before he'd put out.

What a dumbass. He had more than a sneaking suspicion that he should be thanking the water gods for this opportunity. Like he was gonna get another elsewhere…

There were, of course, worse things. One could die babbling like an idiot betraying every secret. Or spouting righteous truths that would be ignored or, worse yet, stomped in the dirt by his killers as they wrenched dying screams from his protesting body.

He could die stoic and useless as a prisoner of war. If he was damned lucky.

Or he could, perhaps, seed all kinds of misinformation among the elite of the Fire Nation on the way to his demise, and perhaps enjoy a little physical gratification along the way.

Hell, there was even the off chance he might find a way to escape death altogether. That was probably pushing things – he had a strong memory of a fortune teller dooming him to a life of self-induced misery, and gods knew this was a fair description of his life to date. So he could see no reason why fate would choose to extend things, unless maybe he wasn't yet miserable enough?

Sokka grinned. He wasn't dead yet, so it was still possible that his would-be lover was still considering his demands.

* * *

He_ could_ have killed her.

He'd made that abundantly clear as he'd dragged his hand down along the back of her head to close around the nape of her neck, those fingers dancing lightly as they mapped tendons and arteries, pressing just hard and long enough to assure her of their strength and promise, or threat.

His smile acknowledged his acceptance that he wouldn't have survived the encounter, and an upward lift of one brow questioned her ability to disable him before he'd dealt the killing blow.

The heat in her soul was largely a result of this unanswered question for Ty Lee, pulling herself reluctantly from his embrace to stand before him.

"Shit, brat. I'd like to see what I'm doing, wouldn't you? Some moonlight would be nice, and fresh air, don't you think?" He hadn't otherwise moved, hadn't protested, and his suggestion was more of a challenge than a hope.

She'd smiled in response, shrugged and left the cell without a backwards glance, heaving open the door on her own since the guard had seen fit to move well down the corridor at some point since she'd first entered. It probably wouldn't do to assume that Sokka hadn't noticed. Sokka had proven himself quick to think on his feet, for all his initial confusion, and Azula had not, after all, given her leave to lose their prisoner.

Would she even consider moving him to more "comfortable" accommodations?


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: My apologies. Based on the structure I've set up to date this chapter should highlight another "interlude" between Sokka and one of the dangerous ladies. But I needed a "transitional" chapter. Damn it. I don't like it, but I'll overlook the annoyance in the interests of time passed, plot deference, and sheer inability to deal with it effectively. My "fanbase" tells me this still fits within the "T" rating, so I guess I'll take the "M" rating from it until I get more explicit (don't take that as a promise; not so sure I've got that kind of writing in me, much as I enjoy reading it!)._

_Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. Just cuz I don't own the characters does not mean I can't speculate on their actions; although admittedly posting such speculations does present a conundrum at law. But, since I'm claiming nothing in the way of rights or remedies, I'm sure we don't need to __go __there…_

* * *

Chapter 13

After a fitful few hours' sleep Sokka gave up on getting any more rest. He was starting to imagine Azula and Mai arguing with one another over the proper way to throw his boomerang as he watched helplessly, wrapped in seemingly endless chains across that damned tea table, with shallow bowls of succulent roast tiger-seal inches away from his face and Ty Lee nibbling on his ear. And he couldn't blame the idiocy on dreaming.

It was all too maddening and, strangely enough, just that little bit enough _likely_ a scenario as to preclude more rational thought.

Then again, perhaps it had just been a dream. Granted, dreaming like this was also his imagination demonstrating a streak of insanity. But at least he was used to that in dreams. He liked to think his waking imagination behaved with a little more discipline. Maybe not a lot. But really, having that roast tiger-seal out of reach was going too far.

Eyes opening to a darkness no less black than that behind his eyelids, Sokka wondered how long it would be before the guards would arrive to light a new candle behind the grill of the wall sconce in his cell. He shuddered at the thought of spending any appreciable amount of time in utter blackness, and reminded himself to be a little more patient regarding Toph's prickliness when he got free. _If_ he ever got free…

Granted, Toph had never known sight beyond her odd earth-bending skills, so since she didn't know what she was missing maybe being visually blind didn't matter to her. That's what she said, anyway. But Sokka knew all about the use of humor to mask a person's particular sensitivities, and Toph was the most brutally funny person Sokka knew. Since she didn't actually _laugh_ that much, he figured Toph found sarcasm to be at least as effective a defense mechanism as he had himself. And since Toph was rich, incredibly talented, and way too young and sheltered to have suffered much in the way of the usual deprivations, he figured her blindness must bug her quite a bit on some level, anyway.

And that made her fair game, at least in one sense.

But Sokka didn't like to think about the possibility that Toph's vulnerability lay in a lack of love and support. So he _didn't_ think about that at all, at least, not most of the time. And given the panic he felt at his current blindness, clawing its way behind his eyeballs and down his throat to his gut, he saw no reason to abandon his usual line of reasoning.

Sokka swore, choosing a few words he'd picked up among the Northern warriors that he'd been careful to keep from his younger companions' – especially his sister's – ears, at feeling blind without any of Toph's compensating abilities. Come to think of it, given her time at the Earth Rumble competitions, he had probably wasted effort in keeping the coarser elements of his vocabulary from Toph's highly acute ears.

And just why the hell was he clinging so hard to thoughts of Toph now anyway?

It was just because the darkness was yet another thing out of his control. The whole prisoner thing. Something he _should_ be getting used to.

Unfortunately, it had finally occurred to him that, in the past, they had always managed to find their way out of whatever captivity they'd stumbled into within a day or so. As near as he could figure, he was coming up on a _full week_ as a Fire Nation captive this time. And he was alone.

Damn. This whole affair totally sucked.

Ah. The lock in that stupid door was rattling again. It was funny how he leapt through a gamut of emotions at that sound, all largely based on a single day's conditioning. He shook his head warily as an oblong outline of light broke through the utter blackness, defining the door's shape and bringing instant relief to some atavistic fear of true blindness hiding all-too-near the surface of his consciousness. In all likelihood, it merely signaled the beginning of another day as the guard brought a new candle for his cell. In keeping with his thoughts regarding the darkness, as the outlined warped and elongated with the opening door Sokka thought longingly of sunlight and fresh air.

"Tribesman. You're wanted."

"Swell. It's _so_ nice to be wanted. Ya know, lately I've been getting probably more than my fair share of attention from you Fire Nation folks. Wouldn't it be nice if it was mutual? I mean, we could all sit around together swapping jokes and stories and it would be fun..."

Sokka was already standing and walking out ahead of the helmeted guard.

Nope. This wasn't a guy he recognized. That was okay. He was only talking out of nervous energy anyway. Didn't matter what he said. Didn't hurt, either. He felt kinda silly talking to himself, but he hated that croaky sound he tended to produce after long periods of silence. It was one thing to start the day that way in front of his friends, who laughed at him pretty much regardless. It was something else again to sound like an idiot in front of whichever-one-of-his-enemies was demanding his presence this time.

Not that he should care, really. And he didn't. He told himself it was just a matter of avoiding any psychological disadvantages. Cause the only reason he might care what they thought of him was purely related to tactical positioning.

Right. That and, in the case of Princess Azula, simply staying alive…

As he walked down the corridor, taking the route to the deck, he continued, "Sure, you can tell me about your favorite raid and I can tell you about watching fire-benders murder my mom. It'll be fun. Oh, don't worry about me, it was years ago. Hell, I was just a kid and didn't really understand everything I saw. I'm over it. Really. I'm sure your guys were just doing their job…"

Sokka was muttering by now, wondering what insanity had driven him to voice that particular resentment. It wasn't like anyone on this ship was likely to have even been there then.

Damn. There was that word again. _Insanity_. Was it a good thing that he was starting to notice irrationality in his thought? Or did that merely mean it was already too late for him to return to nice, practical and pragmatic Sokka, the realistic one of the group?

His steps brought him on deck to the vision of the sun breaching the horizon and the Fire Princess executing an impossibly complicated series of moves that was, undeniably even to Sokka's prejudiced gaze, breathtaking in its beauty. In that quick moment, an odd vision superimposed itself on her dance.

As far as he knew, no one had ever claimed water-bending abilities in Sokka's mother, and he could not honestly graft recent memories of Katara's expertise on the admittedly idealized remnants of his mother lying largely dormant on his sense of being. Yet, in the hazy light of a new dawn Sokka couldn't shake the sense of an older, taller woman in slightly outmoded Water Tribe dress vaguely shadowing the princess's pristine moves. The form in his vision was definitely different – less aggressive and more fluid – but still assertive and confident. And the moves themselves were somehow different, although he felt far too ignorant to say just how. Sokka gaped for a moment, pausing at the head of the stairs until he was prodded from behind by his fire-bender guard.

As he stumbled he turned slightly, enough to catch the sight of the quarter moon, low in the sky across from the rising sun. Sokka had never believed in fate, spirits or other "magics". But since joining with Aang he'd literally been "spirited away" – granted, he had no memory of his day in the spirit world – and watched his beloved ascend to take the place of the moon spirit, among other things. He didn't feel wholly competent anymore to question the role of the supernatural in the world's events. At the moment, he wasn't sure he felt particularly grateful to Yue if this vision was her way of trying to tell him something.

Sokka being Sokka, he slid the odd vision into a compartment of his brain he maintained for "things I really don't want to think about but should maybe keep handy for reference", and focused on the obvious realization that Princess Azula seemed to find it necessary to speak with him again.

And this _couldn't_ be good.

* * *

Like all fire-benders, in her heart Azula worshipped the sun. While 'bending at dawn was hardly a position of strength – after all, noon was the time of greatest power – there was no denying the call of sunrise upon the heart of the fire-bender, an infusion of energy after the long night necessarily spent hoarding one's energy.

For years, Azula had found herself anticipating the sun's rising to ensure her own presence somewhere in the open to observe the dawn. There was something so wholly intoxicating in the first sliver of molten gold breaking the line of dark earth, that first instant of conflict between the two elements, that jolted her into a heightened sense of being alive that she would not recognize again until the next dawn. She was delighted to discover the same infusion of excitement in seeing the sun ascend over a horizon limited by the ocean. Fire conquered all.

It was, for Azula, the affirmation of her innate sense of superiority over the other elements. And nothing was more exciting than the moment between conflict and conquest.

As she finished her _kata_, she turned to acknowledge the presence of the Water Tribe prisoner. As she appraised him, she considered how time had served to inform her against her early desire to simply dispense with him without thinking. Azula suppressed a smile in her simple recognition of the near impossibility she now felt at any action without first… thinking.

It was apparent to Azula that the Tribesman was the worse for wear from her meeting with him yesterday. Perhaps Ty Lee and Mai between them had done well to wear him down; she looked forward to their reports. She had been moderately surprised not to have heard Mai report on the time she had spent in the prisoner's company the evening before, but had dismissed it remembering Mai's disdain for him in general and her own dismissal of Mai's concerns until the morning report.

Mai was a careful and diligent agent, for all her pose as a decadent nihilist. As for Ty Lee? Azula was confident that she knew well wherein her freedom of action lay; after all, she had never shown any hesitance in rendering service for that freedom.

Azula was a confident mistress, not out of arrogance but out of knowledge as to her underlings' motivations. The affection of her schoolmates was no less superficial than her own, although certainly genuine on its face. What really drew them all together was a pact of mutual benefit, of which Azula was, and had always been, the arbiter.

She looked at the Tribesman with a coldly appraising eye, attempting to extricate from her own experience and perceptions the reports on activities attributed to him. It wasn't the first, or even the second time she'd seen him thus. It was, however, the first time she'd considered him without first branding him with his status as companion to the Avatar. Or rather, it was the first time she'd asked herself, why him?

Her previous encounters had already given her partial answers.

He was, like all Tribesmen, insanely loyal. The reason why the Fire Nation had determined to either conquer or destroy the Water Tribes, rather than attempt any form of negotiation. With their culture, subversion was simply impossible.

By now she also knew Sokka was possessed of a ready wit, fully capable of conceiving means to offset battle plans. She suspected the invasion of the Fire Nation during the eclipse probably had root in his fertile brain; the Tribesman was an opportunist and a potentially dangerous leader. She knew that.

That he was her own age merely highlighted the danger. When she added in the fact that he was NOT a bender it opened up a whole new world of psychological advantage for her to consider.

Dammit! This boy, as "everyman" could prove a serious threat! A _non-bender_ a threat to the Fire Nation?

It was almost unprecedented. Maybe it _was_ unprecedented. She wasted precious seconds searching for an analog in her memory, confident that if it didn't lie there it didn't exist.

Azula knew that she herself was unprecedented. She was divine perfection. That any real threat to her could come from such a clearly flawed vessel – a damned non-bender, no less – was simply not tenable!

Her first thought had been to destroy him on sight.

She blessed the instinct – or whatever – that had stayed her hand, at least in this case. She would not have it that it was a mere matter of luck that she had conquered the world.

What value was victory against mere peons?

When she had bested the Avatar, when she had crushed his companions, master benders _and_ otherwise, _then_ Azula would know full victory and the Fire Nation would reign supreme – and her father recognize her ascendency!

So why did she _wait_ to roast one of those "otherwise" associates when she had him so clearly at hand?

Why, indeed?

The simple answer was that she didn't want to give undue significance to any particular individual beyond the Avatar. It just wasn't seemly. Especially to do so for a non-bender.

Nonetheless, it would be incredibly foolish to ignore the evidence of one's own senses just because what they showed simply wasn't credible, such as the appearance of a non-bending neophyte warrior who could anticipate her moves. A better approach was to dissect the thought processes of this arrogant warrior to first ensure that the Water Tribes had not gained some unknown advantage; and _then_ crush the life out of him.

Azula sighed. Virtually all of the pleasure in her short life had been garnered from asserting her supremacy over others. At fifteen she was more powerful, more clever, and more motivated than anyone in the Fire Lord's vast legions. She was smarter than her brother – and so obviously more powerful as to not warrant even mentioning. She had out-maneuvered her brilliant uncle (_his_ power she admitted she was not yet prepared to challenge, although certainly he had lost any political power he'd ever had); and she was a mere step or two of opportunity away from seizing control of the Earth Kingdom itself or, on the same scale, the Avatar.

The key to one or perhaps even both sweated in her prison cell. No, wait. She'd given orders to have him brought before her. Let him sweat as he watched her perfect tribute to the sun.

It occurred to Azula that Ty Lee might find the idea of the Tribesman bowing to the princess a bit objectionable. After all, Ty Lee had claimed him for herself. Azula took a particular pleasure in a kick aimed at a non-existent opponent's pressure points_. I did warn you, didn't I? If I want him, he's MINE.  
_  
She didn't bother thinking about the consequences of such a declaration. At this point it was enough merely to contemplate the assertion itself. Given her subordinate's annoying – yet highly useful - ability to calibrate her punches so as to interfere with her opponent's flow of _chi_, there was a certain satisfaction in Azula's prerogative to override such ability. And claim, in the name of the Fire Lord, _any_ prisoner for her own purposes.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: So very long since I updated this that I had to re-read the whole damn thing to figure out where I was. And then, stupid me, I rewrote Chapter 13 before realizing I'd already posted the darn thing. Sorry, sorry. My apologies, gentle readers, if you find yourselves having to do a quick skim of previous chapters to get yourselves on board also, only to find things going at such a slow start.

Disclaimer: Just cuz I don't own the characters does not mean I can't speculate on their actions; although admittedly posting such speculations does present a conundrum at law. But, since I'm claiming nothing in the way of rights then the actual property owners need claim no remedies…

* * *

Chapter 14:

Now the specter of insanity had taken more choate form in the Fire Princess. Ah, and wasn't _she_ some expression on the fates' part of some overall insanity? Sokka grasped at this as he knew he'd be given no time to consider how the latest evidence of his own instability – the odd vision he'd experienced as he was brought above deck - should affect his overall strategy. Maybe this was a _good_ thing. Being here, having to deal with her again. Maybe he actually _was_ better at thinking on his feet, rather than analyzing to death any particular problem.

Yeah. _That_ was the optimist's route. Only problem was, he'd never believed in optimism. Then again, given the nightmarish contents his imagination tended to throw at him lately, with all those hours devoted to no more than contemplation, maybe optimism was a route worth exploring…

Well, once, anyway. He shook his head in a physical attempt to clear it, daring to close his eyes momentarily. It would be nice, he thought, if he could convince himself that none of this really mattered. It would be such a relief to imagine himself as a mere cog among many others in the war machine, an infinitesimal element easily eliminated, plowed under without meaning in the greater scope of it all, something easily replaced.

Except that Sokka was enough of a natural engineer to understand that if the analogy of mechanistic warfare held true, then he needed to admit that even if he were a mere grain of sand grinding against the workings of the machine, such grinding could in fact wear at some crucial part. It could cause the machine to falter and, at least, slow down. It all depended, didn't it, on just _where_ that grain of sand happened to be rubbing, and wasn't it the case that even a tiny cog was necessary to the machine's functioning?

Ah, well then. A single cog could stop the entire engine.

* * *

Azula found herself taking some pleasure in the appearance of the Tribesman beyond contemplating crushing Ty Lee's absurd little ownership claim or her own, admittedly already subrogated, concerns of him as an avenue towards the crucial goal of attaining conquest over the Avatar.

The power she had over _all_ prisoners gave her sway over this particular individual, of course. It was _her_ call as to whether her immediate subordinate's plans for Sokka should come to fruition or not. She was not at all above acknowledging the pleasure this power gave her, and _that_ was the full extent of her own claim upon him. Of course. She was, perhaps, not quite sufficiently _self-aware_ as to question her assessment of the investment Ty Lee had made in Sokka, or her _own_ investment, for that matter…

Azula had, in fact, wholly expected Ty Lee's reports regarding Sokka to be, well, somewhat _incomplete_. This assessment was, of course, based on previous experience. She had therefore heightened her own perceptions of him during her encounters with the Tribesman to compensate for what she anticipated might be failings in Ty Lee's ability to objectively evaluate his threat to the Fire Nation.

Of course, Ty Lee had never actually failed to accurately assess a lover's capabilities to impact Azula's ambitions. Either positively or negatively. Such prescience and loyalty had won Ty Lee a secure place at her mistress's side. But Azula was by no means prepared to rest what she sensed was a critical decision on the judgment of a peon – no matter how trusted. After all, it would be foolish to assume that there couldn't be a first time in anything, especially when it came to failures in judgment.

Azula believed in redundancy. After all, she could afford it. The whole point of keeping Ty Lee and Mai beside her, since her father had finally given her free rein, was to exploit their different talents and perspectives to her own advantage.

It had, actually, surprised her a bit that Mai had extended herself in _any_ way regarding the Water Tribesman. Fastidious to a fault, Mai's reluctance to lift more than a perfunctory finger in anything more than Azula's safety had been a constant, if minor, source of irritation for the Fire Nation princess. Granted, Mai was quick to investigate _any_ possibility of danger, and did not hesitate to face any such danger in defense of her principal. But she reflected her noble upbringing in her disdain for extending herself beyond what was absolutely required to achieve her goals.

Quite honestly, Azula suspected Mai of being something of a lazy ass.

But _not_ where Azula's safety was at issue. She would like to think Mai had as much regard for Azula's _goals_, but the other girl seemed largely oblivious to them. Still, her instinct for threats against Azula's person was infallible.

So Azula had no particular concerns regarding any overt acts of the Water Tribesman. _He_ could not hurt her. Nor could he, in any likelihood, escape her.

* * *

As the Fire Nation princess closed the ground between them, the rising sun over her shoulder, Sokka clung to that odd after-image of the water-bender beside her, and resolved anew to stand before his enemies without fear, without faltering, and with every bit of cunning and connivance the spirits had seen fit to bless him. He focused on his memory of her cruelty and her sharp intelligence that seemed to prowl every circumstance, like a ravening lynx-wolf, alert to any sign of weakness or hesitation in her prey.

And thus, deliberately, Sokka's brain plied his vision with another illusion. The flawless paradigm of Fire Nation feminine beauty morphed before his eyes into a snowy predator. But then, unbidden, his imagination surrendered up an odd assortment of images: While the linx-wolf ruled the tundra, she could not out-maneuver the Water Tribe, once alerted to her presence. Even so, she had as much right to existence as the Tribesmen; the Tribe recognized as much and made accommodations. It was odd, because, frankly, for all her beauty she had little of value to give the Tribe.

It should have been a simple decision to simply find a way to eliminate her. Yet every generation of Tribesman had considered the lynx-wolf and accepted that, in her sheer beauty and fierceness, she embodied a life-force too important to destroy. The predator made life on the tundra a bit harder, yes, but also somehow _elevated_ it as well.

This time Sokka shook his head more vigorously. Quite obviously he had either been ingesting some mind-numbing drug or his incarceration had rendered more harm than he had recognized. His perception of the Fire Nation was totally fucked-up. This was patently obvious by not only his idiotic visions but also by the urges he forced himself to admit he felt towards his captors. He wanted to insinuate his body in every possible way with one Fire Nation native; to share his wit and skill with another, as with a _comrade_; and finally, to find some form of _accord for existence_ with the scion of the Fire Nation itself. He couldn't, at the moment, imagine how _any_ of these longings could possibly serve his tribe, let alone the world at large he had given allegiance to in taking up the cause of the Avatar. Yep. He'd gone nutso. Probably.

On the other hand, on the optimism front…

Sokka grit his teeth as he considered his position. It was either exceptionally positive – he'd managed somehow to isolate each of his captors from the other in terms of their goals – or he was at the center of a deviously triangulated plot. It was _possible_ that they had all approached him independently, each with, he had come to suspect, a reason to somehow shade exactly how much progress each had made in her, ah…_negotiations_, with him when comparing such with the others. Then again, everything _could_ all be in fact a concerted ploy on the part of the fiendishly clever woman now grasping the cloth proffered by the guard a few steps to one side of him, even as she fixated on him with her eyes.

Well, he felt so far his best success had been to take the situation by the balls and plunge forward. Why change course now?

"Damn, girl," he drawled. "Granted, where I come from hot baths _are_ a luxury, but we _do_ try to ration them out such that our guests aren't subjected to the stench of the hunt or other, em, strenuous activities, when we greet them."

And like the lynx-wolf, Azula showed him her teeth, but not before throwing the cloth aside after dragging it first across her face, then along her neck and shoulders, exposed before she then drew on a tunic over the more abbreviated exercise attire, almost languorously closing the frogs across her chest and neck as she attempted to stare him down.

Sokka allowed his grin to linger, merely tilting his head a bit without breaking eye contact as he recognized that she had decided to ignore his comment. Fine then, the boundaries between them continued to fluctuate. He'd be damned if he would indicate in any way that it was a problem for him!

* * *

A part of her brain had considered the peasant's reaction to her stripped-down appearance, bearing in mind his confusion over Ty Lee's aggressive sexuality and her own preconceptions regarding his primitive culture. She had, admittedly, intended to provoke him into some kind of response. She had not anticipated that he would quite manage to place _her_ in the role of barbarian, though. No, she thought to herself, she had been expecting something more along the lines of awe, humility, and, perhaps, gibbering male adolescence.

Again she had underestimated him.

A corner of Azula's mouth curled. Much as it annoyed her to have miscalculated yet again, she couldn't help but be amused at the prisoner's consistent audacity in his interactions with her. It was obvious that he was determined to deny her any real recognition of her obvious superiority over him.

Azula had deliberately slowed her hands in their efficient restoration of her dress from casual work-out to presentation mode. No single movement could have been claimed as improper, yet she allowed the clean lines of pale skin from shoulder to chest to be exposed just a heartbeat or two longer than absolutely necessary. And she was ready to swear the prisoner's eyes made note of the view.

"And so you yet live," she murmured, as if to herself in half-question. "I don't suppose you feel any sense of obligation to me for my forbearance..."

"Hell, no," Sokka responded. "Thought I told you yesterday I was rather prepared to live, all things considered."

"Ah but, we discussed so many _lovely_ ways for you to die, didn't we?" she queried sweetly. How far would he continue this, anyway?

"I _did_ think we might be speaking hypothetically, of course," Sokka relaxed his stance yet further, forcing the cockiness from his grin into a more genial smile. "I don't suppose you'd thought of making this a breakfast meeting, had you?"

He allowed an element of genuine hopefulness to infuse his voice.

_It wasn't as though he presented himself as a prince with demands as a royal prisoner_, she thought to herself, trying to analyze just why his arrogance didn't inspire in her a desire to immediately fry his balls. _No, he didn't attempt to elevate himself in any way. _And yet, he also refused to acknowledge her obvious superiority to him. And this _should_ have infuriated her.

Somehow, instead, it amused her. With effort, she schooled her own expression to remain bland, if not annoyed. Keeping her eyes on Sokka, she ordered the purser to bring her a pot of tea. One cup.

"I'd say someone flunked their lessons in diplomacy, but then, hey. I can't say I ever had any lessons myself, so who am I to talk?" He spoke petulantly. Again, his tone was a deliberate provocation, yet without fear.

"Indeed. Who _are_ you?"

It had occurred to Azula that her best course with the Tribesman may well lie in silence. He seemed constitutionally incapable of keeping his own mouth shut for any appreciable time period, and thus would almost certainly inadvertently say more than he wished.

Again she remembered Ty Lee's early ability to fluster him into foolishness. She realized she'd taken her model of Mai with him too far before; Mai was habitually silent and had to be provoked into unguarded utterances. Sokka, on the other hand, was habitually voluble, taking refuge in speech that was generally disregarded. As such, if she just let him speak long enough he would eventually slip up. In his own arrogance he wouldn't be able to help himself. He wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to include, in a sea of otherwise irrelevance, nuggets of value purely on the assumption that they, too, would be disregarded.

Azula considered how allowing him to actually eat breakfast with her might further this particular strategy.

* * *

Okay. He was ready to swear she'd been _flirting_ with him just then. There was no way it was acceptable for Fire Nation royalty to flaunt their particular perfections, at least as to figure, such as the lovely sweep of flesh from shoulder to the gentle swell of breast _he'd just seen_, thanks to her actions. Granted, customs were different among the Tribes, Earth Kingdom and, certainly, the Fire Nation. Spirits knew, Ty Lee had shocked him beyond belief with her own forwardness. But Sokka felt fairly secure in assuming that the circus girl probably operated by different standards than that allowed the First House of the Fire Nation.

He reached into his memory of his previous encounters with Princess Azula for clues as to how to handle himself. Boldness had served him well with her so far, he thought, along with an explicit and overt recognition of her position as having the upper hand, for now at least. It also occurred to him that he had, almost unconsciously, treated her as if she were another male.

Was _that _what had inspired her deliberate exposure of pale skin and opulent curves, hidden only by the same type of form-fitting bindings Katara wore to swim in? Did she _resent_ his oblique assertion that command assumed masculinity? Was he reading too much in that partial glimpse of creamy breast?

Oh yeah, almost certainly! He would be _much_ better off following a mode of address already proven successful. Now was _not_ the time to remember that Azula was, in fact, a prin_cess_!

It was, after all, fairly easy to drop into the familiar role of ignorant fool, shading every utterance with hidden meaning. He knew she had seen beyond the fool, but he was also fairly certain he still had her guessing as to when – and what – importance might lie in what he had to say. After all, most of the time he was _truly_ just flapping his gums, nothing more than a joke for his own amusement lying beneath his words.

He was tempted to smirk when she ordered tea for herself. After all, she had no way of knowing what a cretin she appeared in his own culture by denying even an enemy the _form_ of hospitality, if not its substance. And if he survived, it was an interesting cultural tidbit to remember for future negotiations with the Fire Nation.

On the other hand, he truly was hungry, and he suspected his stomach would shortly betray him by rumbling audibly. She would, no doubt, enjoy that.

Even so, her last question did disconcert him a bit.

Who _was_ he to dare to treat with the princess of the Fire Nation?

They both knew he was one of the Avatar's companions. There was no gainsaying that. It had earned him a seat before heads of state that his own status as the son of the leader of the nearly forgotten Southern Water Tribe remnants or as a mere warrior probably would not. Did that actually grant him any particular authority? Of course not.

_And that_, Sokka reminded himself, _is what I need to concentrate upon_. _As long as I remember my own essential redundancy, she can't hurt me. She can't hurt _us_!_

So it was fair game to tease and taunt her, to try to convince her that he was with-holding some great secret from her. The only really vital information he actually held was that regarding the date of the next black sun. And there was no way Azula would even be able to imagine such a possibility.

Sokka turned his face to the rising sun and smiled with genuine satisfaction.

"Aw, c'mon, Princess," he said. "You know my name already. I thought you knew everything about me. Wanna know about the time I got these two fish-hooks stuck in my thumb? I gotta admit, it was kinda dumb, I mean, the second one, anyway. The first one coulda happened to anyone, mind you, and really, the whole thing was years ago. I was just a kid…"

* * *

Azula feigned indifference as the prisoner blathered on, wondering if she needed to stop him purely in order to prevent her guard from getting ideas about her willingness to put up with idiocy. After all, she'd worked hard to instill the proper amount of fear in her subordinates regarding her wishes. She suspected that her lapses regarding the Water Tribe prisoner might be doing some damage to this discipline.

Still, there was undoubted entertainment value in watching him stretch his imagination for one inanity after another, presented in all due seriousness. If she hadn't honestly believed it was all an act, she would have been driven to distraction by it all, and he could not have survived. Well, he wouldn't have, would he? She wasn't _that_ entertained!

She clenched her jaw slightly to avoid a chuckle from slipping out. He was too absurd! It _was_ all an act. Surely.

She heartily wished she could trust some subordinate to sieve through Sokka's foolishness for that kernel of information she was convinced _must_ be there. Mai, perhaps. But could even Mai recognize among all the blatantly false meanderings the element of truth that was crucial? Or was it perhaps somehow imbedded in the process of his idiocy itself?

Hadn't she had to analyze his conversation _after_ the fact to spot the contrived nature of it in the first place? With a sudden quake of self-doubt Azula wondered if perhaps she had given more credit to the Avatar's companion than was, in fact, due him. Had she over-thought their interactions? Was she even now making a fool of herself by continuing to listen to him, by keeping him alive?

Azula suddenly tossed the empty teacup high into the air, and then gathered her energies together for a precision lightning blast that shattered the cup. She'd thrown it such that, had it hit the deck, it would have done so mere inches in front of Sokka. As it was, the young man's hair literally stood on end as lightning surged a few feet above his head, and sheer reflex sent him crouching down, arms thrown protectively over his head and eyes bulging in shot nerves.

As the debris from the shattered cup rained down upon him, he remained in his crouched position on the deck. Seconds later he lifted his arms, carefully searching first the sky and then Azula for signs of further foul weather.

The princess stood half turned away from him, one arm bent at the waist and the other drawing a line along her forward leg. He noted the faintest trail of smoke curling from her extended fingers on that arm, and the smirk with its echoing curl pulling up one side of her perfectly painted lips.

Sokka drew himself back up to his full height, unconsciously turning his body to mirror the princess' stance. He pulled the fingers of one hand through his hair, his scalp still tingling as he attempted to impose some order on his appearance.

As he turned his gaze back upon Azula he couldn't help the expression of appraisal that overtook his wide-eyed surprise, brows furrowed slightly and lids hooding his pupils to darken their depths.

The very air itself was charged in the aftermath of her strike, and perhaps for the first time Sokka realized just how close to death he stood.

In the heartbeats encompassing the time their eyes met each other, Azula smiled. The intelligence behind his gaze in the face of her violence was exactly the reaction she had been expecting – no, hoping for. This was no fool before her. And it was high time he realized that she knew _exactly_ who he was.

It was Sokka's jaw's turn to clench. He realized that he had, in fact, become somewhat complacent in his apparent successes with his Fire Nation captors. He had just received a very _potent_ reminder of the dangers of such complacency.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: In celebration of the resumption of the story with Season 3 finally! I bring you an update unseasonably quickly! I may even manage to update my "Passages" story with a chapter by the season opener on Friday, 9/21!_

_(But hey, don't count on it since I seem to be terribly unreliable…)_

Disclaimer: Perhaps at this point I've changed the characters, etc. enough to be exempt from copyright law… But, since I'm STILL claiming nothing in the way of rights or remedies, I'm sure we don't need to go there…

Chapter 15

In the Capital a well-bred young woman was expected to wake at a reasonable hour in time to achieve a certain level of beauty for her lord and family, as well as provide appropriate direction for the household to prepare for the day and meet the master's needs. In practice, the well-bred young woman ensured her household was served by a competent, discrete (and generally well-compensated) major domo who assured to all but the former requirement. Well, said major-domo _also_ assured that the means to achieving a certain level of beauty – in the way of a hot bath, suitable raiment, dressers, etc. were also available. In short, the more well-off a young woman was monetarily – or even in terms of court connections – the less was actually expected of her in most ways and, consequently, the later she could sleep in.

Given Ty Lee's tendency to indulge in late night escapades, combined with her "temporary" circus residency, she was lucky indeed to have retained her extraordinary allowance. That said, she was quite determined to avail herself of the privileges of her class, no matter what her principal's practices.

There were very few dawns that Ty Lee observed, unless they happened to occur _before_ she'd found her bed.

Ty Lee slept heavily and with profound simplicity. Satisfied with her own place in the world, her dreams were undisturbed by specters of loves lost or opportunities gone begging. Had anyone with the perception to see it been available to comment, they would have admitted that Ty Lee's aura as she slept was as pure and clean as that of a new-born infant.

Of course, few were born who could perceive auras at all, let alone pass judgment on them.

As Ty Lee had exhibited her late night predilections early on in their relationship, Princess Azula only rarely required her presence at breakfast. Again, Azula fully understood that fine instruments required their own special care, and Ty Lee was definitely one of the finest of instruments.

* * *

Mai's morning ablutions followed the first stirrings of Princess Azula. Or rather, she awoke to Azula's first stirrings, but did not rise herself unless the pace of the normal routine appeared in any way interrupted. She took inordinate pleasure in staying abed in the wake of others' activity, especially given her own acceptance of her willingness and ability to respond instantaneously to any aberration of routine.

Mai's diaphanous nightwear was exquisite as much for what it concealed as what it revealed. Yes, it showed a generous curve of breast along with fully bared calves, knees and arms up to the elbow. But Mai slept with shoulder holsters fully loaded, and an array of daggers spaced along each thigh, to permit 'careful' sleep. Few well-bred ladies could have claimed such effective protection.

A childhood assumption that the future fire-lord's lady would need to be prepared to protect herself had first inspired Mai, lacking fire-bending but not lacking ambition, to take up her first knife. She had, perhaps, surrendered that initial aspiration, but Mai prided herself on knowing that no one, not her teachers nor even the princess herself, could wield a thrown blade with more precision.

In the half daze between sleep and awakening, Mai curled her toes in the delicious belief that a blade could reach further and with more effect than flame or even lightning, if the defender was focused on fighting the more obvious attacks. She was, of course, wrong in her assessment of lightning's potential. But then, she hadn't been around Azula quite long enough yet to have assimilated that data into her calculations, so Mai rested easy in her own sense of competence.

* * *

He wanted to scream at her what a crazy-ass move that had been. He also wanted to clap her on the back in recognition as to how precise her aim had been – aside from the absurd stiffness in his hair follicles following her sudden blast, he was wholly unaffected.

He wanted to pull her aside and discuss indefinitely the potential such a blast could inflict on any array of targets – he wanted to design such an array and record the various permutations of calculated bursts of energy upon them…

As Sokka recovered from his own up close and personal display of Azula's incredible potential for destructive power, his fertile brain instantly sought means of harnessing that power for productive consumption. The apparent obstacles of storage and modulation presented themselves to him first in the obvious question; could such a force ever be harnessed?

Sokka had heard about Azula's power potential. He thought he'd even seen it, that day in the abandoned high desert village where they'd run into Iroh and Zuko in such odd straits.

But until that particular morning, he'd had no real opportunity to assess her abilities beyond the searing blue light that accompanied her attacks on Aang. And _that_ wasn't so much more threatening that anything Zuko had done. Was it?

Sokka forced himself to confront the fears that had eaten away at him in the darkness of his prison cell. Fuck. Azula was to Zuko as Zuko was as to _him_.

Right. Sooo good for the ego right now.

And somehow, a genuine laugh asserted itself, startling both of them.

_Damn! Why didn't I see it before? The answer is to keep the number of variables beyond her management. There's me – I'm one count for Aang. And then there's Zuko – apparently she's not sure how to count for him. His uncle? That guy's some kind of crazy wild card going into the mix, oh yeah! So. Katara and Toph definitely count for Aang as well, and while she may not realize it, they're high-ranking cards. Oh, oh wait! Maybe __I __haven't been considered as counting for Aang at all – isn't that the point of my 'idiot disguise'?_

Sokka swiftly turned the laugh into a fit of hacking, draining coughs. He wanted to keep Azula guessing as far as he was concerned. He focused hard on coughing in a way that shook his whole body, allowing the paroxysms to bring his body to his knees before attempting to raise himself or protest any aid.

Not that any aid was offered.

* * *

Azula's eyes narrowed. At first Sokka's response had fit her expectations perfectly. And these paroxysms could still fit a sensitive individual's reaction to a sudden lightning blast. But Sokka had already _appeared_ quite recovered beforehand, and she was ready to swear that the fit had started with a burst of _laughter_. Now, _why_ would the pathetic, yet way-too-canny, Tribesman have seen something to _laugh_ at in her display of power?

And _that_ was sufficient to make up her mind for her. She was not yet ready to send him back to his cell. But then, nor was she prepared to alter her routine for him.

"Bring him." With that command to his guard, she turned her back to walk up the ramp to the raised dais, seating herself neatly while the low meal table was settled before her.

Moments later a parade of servitors from the galley filled the table with a variety of breakfast fare and a fresh teapot. Sokka was disappointed, but not surprised, to see that his guard did not interpret Azula's command to mean that he was to have a place at that table, stationing him instead just before the dais, where he had made his appearance the day before. This was a form of subtle torture for him, though they probably didn't realize it.

_Again_ Sokka could see and smell the delicacies the Fire Nation saw fit to provide its royalty. His stomach growled hopefully even as his mind attempted to ignore it all.

"I don't suppose you're familiar with the concept of cultural exchange?" he asked, since he could not hope that his stomach grumblings had been unheard. Continuing to bait the princess was certainly risky, especially given what he had just seen, but it seemed a reasonable fit for the persona he had adopted for his interactions with her.

"You call your miserable way of life a _culture_?" Azula couldn't help herself. Even as she told herself not to respond to his comments she wanted to see how far he would push things. He was either incredibly brave or incredibly fool-hardy, and in either case he astonished her. Surely he didn't doubt her willingness to kill him?

Sokka shrugged. "Whatever. In any case, I've seen the worst of the Fire Nation. So maybe I'm curious to know just how good the best might be. Shouldn't _you_ be best able to show me?"

"Why would I want to?" Now this was interesting. Was he offering to negotiate with her?

"Why else keep me standing here? You still haven't said why you dragged me up here anyway, so what am I to think? Maybe you're bored. I certainly am.…we're both hungry. Since we're at an impasse otherwise, I don't see why we can't both just eat while you tell me what you want with me this morning. Don't you _want_ me to believe in the superiority of the Fire Nation in _all_ things?" He presented this for all the world as if the very idea of a peasant sharing her meal wasn't absurd.

"I'm still waiting for you to tell me why _I _should care what _you_ think at all." So no, she thought, negotiation _wasn't_ on the table. He did have a point, though. Why _had_ she brought him up from his cell? Because, by observing him directly she hoped to figure him out and, ultimately, force him to concede defeat.

"No. That's no good, Princess. Of _course_ you care. If you didn't - I truly _would_ be dead by now." Sokka smiled that bland, lazy smile that didn't reach his eyes and made Azula so _very_ sure that luck had been very good to her in the attack that left the Tribesman her prisoner. And, since prisoner he was, he could damn well just stand there while she ate, ready to answer her questions as they arose.

"Or perhaps it amuses me to make you squirm before you die. Don't you think I would enjoy watching my enemies suffer?"

Sokka ostentatiously sighed. "I thought we went over all this _yesterday_. There're all kinds of ways you can cause me pain and humiliation, and I'm supposed to cringe and gulp and go all pale at the thought. I _told_ you. I don't like pain and I don't want to die, but even _more -_ I just plain hate you. So, since you're _gonna do_ whatever you're _gonna do_ to me anyway I see no reason to give you jollies by quaking with fear beforehand. Now, I admit, there's a decent chance that if you make me stand here long enough you'll catch me drooling over the goodies on that table. I s'pose that would give you _some_ satisfaction, but it strikes me as kinda pathetic. But maybe that's another Fire Nation cultural thing I'm too barbaric to appreciate."

He was damned if he would give her any hint as to how much it really bugged him to watch others eat when he couldn't.

Azula brought a savory, doughy dumpling to her lips for a delicate bite before answering. She liked his candor in admitting that her willingness to hurt him for her pleasure was a reality, and that he couldn't avoid it. She also appreciated his assertion that he was determined to deny her as much pleasure from that as possible. She even found refreshing his calm admission that he hated her. And noted the subtle admission that he recognized that at some point his will would eventually succumb.

He was brave, then, but not stupid. The rest of the dumpling returned to the plate and was set aside. She would eat no more of it. Azula lifted the cover off another dish.

"You are presuming, again, as to what I care about. This time you're attempting to shame me out of the pettiness of letting you go hungry while I satisfy myself. That only works if, again, it _matters_ to me what you think of me." Azula smiled sweetly at him as she wafted the flavorful steam rising off this dish towards her nostrils.

"No, Princess. But it does assume I think you care about what you think of yourself. I apologize for presuming too much." Sokka bent slightly from the waist as he spoke in conscious mockery of a bow, but his tone was serious.

With careful deliberation Azula brought another bite to her lips, focusing on the table before her instead of the mouthy boy. She realized that she had given him extraordinary leeway in his insolence to her _yet again_. And truly, she felt a strong urge to kill him, almost as much to enforce discipline in her crew as to assuage the insult to her pride. But there was _something _about Sokka that... intrigued her. More importantly, there was _something_ about the odd combination of cleverness and mulish bravado in the face of an apparently hopeless situation that convinced her that he was _hiding_ something from her. Something that was almost certainly important to her and... he _knew_ it.

So she could wait to kill him.

* * *

"Your Highness," Mai paused as she stepped out on deck, dutifully nodding her head in obeisance to Azula as she noted Sokka's presence. She had missed all but his last words with her arrival. She had heard the lightning blast as she finished dressing, and had assumed something or someone had annoyed Azula. Obviously, that someone was Sokka.

Mai only wondered why he was still alive.

Much as she hoped he lived long enough to give her another lesson with the boomerang, Mai found herself more curious as to why Azula continued to tolerate him. She found it hard to believe that a mere boy could harbor any secrets worth Azula's time or attention. His value as the Avatar's friend was almost certainly limited to his function as bait. At this point, _living_ bait was no longer necessary. Still, Azula apparently believed he had more to give her. She couldn't imagine that Azula felt any need to bend him to her will; she kept _that_ particular honor to her friends, family, and those whom she believed could further her ambitions.

But then, perhaps Azula believed she could turn Sokka against his own. Mai's lips twitched at the absurdity of the thought. Everyone knew that the Water Tribes were loyal to a fault. Of course, there were always exceptions to every rule. But somehow Mai doubted Sokka could be turned, and doubted even more that Azula seriously entertained any such idea.

Mai settled herself on a cushion and perused the morning's breakfast offerings. In her peripheral vision she saw Sokka standing with his arms folded across his chest, his face turned deliberately away from the dais. Azula was sampling the fare with her usual fastidiousness, nibbling here and there and finishing nothing, the pile of discards steadily growing.

Mai's own style of eating was geared towards efficiency, and she quickly filled a plate with a hearty supply of her favorite dishes. Remembering Ty Lee, she made note of which dishes Azula had already sampled and replaced their covers. Perhaps Ty Lee would notice the difference between a stone-cold dumpling and one that was merely barely warm. Perhaps not. Probably the cook would simply toss the lot back in the steamer or pan or whatever for a quick re-heat to tempt the Lady Ty Lee. Still, Mai saw no point in teasing Sokka with the sight of food he couldn't have.

Although Azula may prefer to consider it an exercise in humiliation. If so, let her say so outright.

"Why Mai," Azula drawled. "The peasant is hungry. You may give him my leftovers, if you wish."

"Ah." Mai forcibly clenched her lips over a moue of distaste. _This_ wasn't the kind of cleanup after Azula she expected, nor did she care for taking an active role in humiliating Sokka this way. She couldn't stop herself from glancing quickly to see his reaction.

To her surprise, one eyebrow rose as his frown relaxed into an easy smile.

"Oh yes," Azula's own gaze returned to Sokka, _her_ smile better characterized as a smirk. "You need to be careful what scraps you feed a dog, but I'm sure a Tribesman won't quibble."

"Why should I?" he returned pleasantly, taking the plate from Mai with a nod and shrugging off the lack of chopsticks. "You've already _taste-tested _everything for me. I'm sure I couldn't ask for better."

"You've no problem being my dog?" Azula deliberately ignored his jibe as to her testing the food for him.

"Oh Princess, if it means receiving food fresh from your lips I'm sure I feel quite honored." Sokka demonstrated his own ability as to selectively interpretation.

Mai found herself clenching hard this time to suppress a chuckle. She was beginning to suspect that the real reason Azula was keeping Sokka alive was purely to test his wit. He _claimed_ to fear her, but everything out of his mouth was a challenge one way or another. Mai couldn't remember when Azula had ever been confronted so consistently. Even in school the other girls cowered before her, and not just because of her power as a member of the Royal House.

It might actually be that she found Sokka _entertaining_.

Given the reality that what usually entertained Azula was engaging in various forms of cruelty or exercises that showcased her own talents, it seemed an odd prospect. But then, perhaps she found matching wits with someone so different and so obviously careless of her good will – a novelty in itself – sufficiently unusual as to be entertaining. For now, anyway.

Then Mai found herself astonished for a second time that morning as Ty Lee wandered up to the table. She looked at the position of the sun and again at Ty Lee.

Either the world was coming to an end or the age of miracles had dawned. Ty Lee was up in time for breakfast and Azula apparently found amusement in the conversation of a peasant.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Thank you, all of you, who have encouraged me to continue this to me amusing little perambulation into what might have occurred last season without wholly throwing this season off course. I've made huge assumptions, and totally recast Sokka's role to fit my own ideas. As for the Dangerous Ladies? Thank god cartoon characters can't sue for libel!_

Disclaimer: Perhaps at this point I've changed the characters, etc. enough to be exempt from copyright law… But, since I'm STILL claiming nothing in the way of rights or remedies, I'm sure we don't need to go there…

Chapter 16

Ty Lee stretched her arms above her head in accompaniment of a huge yawn, catching the attention of those already seated on the dais. Sokka pretended not to notice the way her position thrust her breasts into prominence, ostensibly keeping his focus on his nearly empty plate and licking his fingers.

Although her eyes were still hooded in transition between sleep and wakefulness, Ty Lee noted the thoroughness of Sokka's tongue across those long fingers. Her mind instantly brought forth images of the last time she saw him eat, his fearsome kiss, and the latent strength of those fingers and what he might do with them... Her knees buckled and she was glad she'd already found her place at the table. Her natural grace prevented her from obviously collapsing. At least, she _hoped_ that was how it appeared.

Sokka shifted his weight to his other leg while he considered how best to deal with the three dangerous ladies, together before him for the first time since each had made it clear to him that she harbored interests in him unrelated to her cohorts. Sokka had started to think of those interests as possibly incompatible with each other, and thus as an opportunity for him. Seeing them together again, he wondered if perhaps he had been unrealistically optimistic. After all, while Mai had admitted that Azula knew nothing of her keeping his boomerang, Azula _had _to have known that the weapons expert had sought him out last night. And Ty Lee had made it quite plain that Azula sanctioned _her_ approaches to him, in the interests of keeping Ty Lee "happy".

So should he now acknowledge Azula's two colleagues in light of those different interests, and what impact would that have on Azula's decision to keep him alive? And that, he suddenly realized, was probably a stupid question. No one's goals ultimately mattered but Azula's, so he would be an _idiot_ to shift his attention elsewhere when Azula was present.

He did, however, allow his lips to quirk a lop-sided grin to acknowledge the happy little wave Ty Lee threw his way as she engulfed a pastry from the tray.

Azula herself appeared to have finished eating, and he wondered if she would consider it a nice added humiliation to give him the other girls' leavings as well as her own, or if he had already pissed her off too much. Too bad. That pastry looked particularly appealing as Ty Lee's lips closed over it.

And Sokka pulled rein hard on his thoughts as he realized that the little thrill that had attended Ty Lee's eating was not so much anticipation of gastric pleasure but rather an anticipation of something _else_ that had shot straight to his groin. Damn the girl! Did she do that deliberately?

Azula had been speaking in a low tone to Mai, who nodded as she poured out three cups of tea, maintaining her customary bored expression. As Azula's eyes turned towards her cup Mai shot a quick look at Sokka, a look he didn't miss.

Okay. Azula wasn't talking to him anymore but she wasn't quite done with him either.

Time to shake things up again.

* * *

"So, since _you all_ are busy I'll just take a little walk around the deck. You know, I've never actually spent much time on one of these ships before and I admit I'm kinda curious. I mean, I've flown _over_ them often enough but generally we've been too high to get a real sense of them. Of course, after Aang was done with Zhao's fleet there wasn't much left to see." He spoke conversationally, acting as if his statement didn't include several references designed to gall his listeners. It had amused him to lapse into the role of a guest rather than a prisoner with Azula; it put her off-balance and she didn't expect it. He suspected that keeping Azula guessing about him was the main thing keeping him alive.

As for the other girls' reactions, well, Ty Lee clearly ignored the prisoner thing when it suited her purpose. Mai didn't seem to care one way or another, except as how to use it to get him to teach her how to throw a boomerang.

As he turned to step away his guard stiff-armed him to a standstill, keeping a firm hand on Sokka's shoulder even as he tried to shake it off. With a sigh, he returned to his previous position. Apparently the _guard_ had fairly distinct ideas as to how a prisoner should behave.

"Okay then. Somebody _please_ come up with another idea, preferably one that doesn't involve pain or discomfort for me," he wagged his fingers at the table in mock remonstrance. "Not that I don't trust you or anything, but girls can be cruel from time to time."

In his peripheral vision he thought he saw the guard's shoulders shake ever so slightly. So did that mean that maybe the guy had a sense of humor after all, or was he just shocked at Sokka's gall in assuming such a teasing tone. Why, a suspicious mind might even believe he was flirting. Yeah, Sokka _finally_ admitted it to himself. He wasn't just acting as a nonchalant guest, he _was_ flirting. But, he told himself, it was only, and explicitly, for its shock value – although obviously Ty Lee would take him quite seriously indeed.

_That_ idea still appalled him, on many levels. But he was also ready to admit that a part of him was fascinated by the possibilities it presented, and not just because it opened up a potential avenue for escape.

All three sets of eyes were now fixed upon him. Ty Lee's sparkled with mischief, and there was now no trace of sleepiness in the grin plastered across her features. Mai's expression was studiously blank, her dark eyes betraying nothing. As for the Princess, Sokka was reminded yet again of the lynx-wolf – there was something distinctly predatory and feral in those hooded golden eyes and slow, hard smile.

Sokka repressed an urge to shudder.

"He likes the fresh air. _Don't_ you, peasant?" Azula crooned. "And he finds his accommodations below deck objectionable. Apparently privacy is underrated in the Water Tribes. Perhaps he'd rather bunk with the common soldiers. Tell me, Mai, didn't the captain say it was a bit crowded down there?"

The other girl merely nodded. Mai wondered if the conversation – if you could call it that – would devolve as it had the day before into a series of threats on Azula's part and acidic assessment of their effectiveness, feasibility, and, on occasion, "ick factor" from Sokka. Almost like a pair of children spatting with one another across the garden wall – children who would rather argue with each other than talk companionably with anyone else.

"Trust me, Handsome, you're _much_ better off in your cell than with the soldiers," Ty Lee dared a sidelong glance at Azula, sure she had read the other girl's intent correctly but a bit hesitant to take too much verve from Sokka's audience with the Princess. After all, it was this cocky attitude that had attracted her to him - almost as much as his exotic good looks. "The captain doesn't allow the men much in the way of shore leave, you know, and I'm afraid a pretty face like yours might bring on more _trouble_ than you could handle."

Azula enjoyed watching the dark skin of the Water Tribesman pale noticeably as he absorbed Ty Lee's meaning. For once he was almost speechless. _Almost_.

"I'm _not_ pretty."

"No love, not really, but it's all relative, you know? Don't worry," it was Ty Lee's turn to croon. "_I'll_ take care of you."

"Words cannot describe my relief."

Azula caught Mai's eye, lids actually crinkling in genuine amusement. Sokka had recovered quickly, and watching him balance keeping Ty Lee interested without actually accepting her patronage was a lesson on male pride. Knowing Ty Lee, both assumed Sokka would succumb in time. Mai greeted the prospect with a certain relief – Sokka had assumed too prominent a place in her own thoughts and putting him back in the pigeonhole of one of Ty Lee's amusements would do much to restore her own internal calm. Azula felt herself on the fence – she wanted Sokka to prove _more_ than a match for her sultry friend, even if it did mean she would not get the information she wanted from him. She had not yet acknowledged this desire in herself.

* * *

Sokka turned his attention back to Azula. "Very funny, Princess. I suppose I should also be relieved that you're more worried about my … virtue than you are about the possibility of me managing to sneak out of the barracks. I guess that says something about Fire Nation discipline and priorities." His voice was cool again, the bantering tone gone. "Of course, just _what_ it says is anybody's guess." He added under his breath.

"I don't give a damn about your virtue, peasant. Frankly, I don't give a damn about you at all. You've mistaken your importance in my eyes." Azula gave a wave in Ty Lee's direction, as if to suggest that Sokka lived merely to keep Ty Lee amused.

Sokka's lip curled and he cocked a brow at her. "Fine. So what _did_ you want with me this morning anyway? We've already figured out the many ways you could kill me and my friends. You've declined to enlighten me as to, um, _Fire Nation_ virtues and no, I don't count getting my hair almost frizzed and parted by your ability to throw lightning around as a virtue. We both know I've got nothin' I want to say to you and you _claim_ not to care what I might say anyway. Seems to me we're just _wasting time_."

Yep. Dangerous as it was to play word games with any one of these three one-on-one it _definitely_ stepped things up when they were all together. Maybe he _was_ better off back in that cell. As long as they lit that damned candle, that is. He didn't relish spending the day alone in the dark with his own even darker thoughts.

And while Sokka seriously doubted that any of his captors would be better company – no, wait, in some ways _any_ of them _alone_ would actually be more entertaining – it did seem more likely that he would actually learn something of value as long as he was _anywhere_ besides that damned cell. Still, his blood pressure would probably never recover from the stress. Of course, he wasn't that likely to live long enough to worry about blood pressure, now was he?

"Your thinking is too _pedestrian_ to imagine how I might find value in how I spend my time," Azula responded. But, of course, he was right. At _this_ point she was hard-pressed to think of an excuse to keep him here. But since she was a princess, she didn't need any excuse. Annoying as he most certainly was, Azula could think of no better way to ease her mind as to the possibility that Sokka held some important secret than to keep watch on him herself, personally. And that, she told herself, had been the real reason she had directed that he be brought out on deck during her morning exercises. She could observe him without lending to the occasion any undue importance. It had nothing really to do with impressing him as to abilities - her position alone should have been sufficient to cow him into submission; but it certainly didn't hurt to show him how easily she could dispatch him herself. Of course, the little pissant seemed to _enjoy_ the demonstration without actually internalizing the lesson! How incredibly_ annoying_ he could be!

Yet, while he was annoying, he was also quite… stimulating.

* * *

If Ty Lee had been a cat, she would have been rhythmically tucking her claws into the cushion beneath her, kneading it in a viscerally satisfying expression of her own comfort with how things appeared to be going with Sokka.

Azula was certainly interested in him, but that interest seemed predicated on _intimidating_ him to bow to her will. Since Ty Lee suspected he would find it a matter of pride not to knuckle under, the two of them would be at loggerheads until Azula either struck him dead out of frustration or he wised up and caved. As for Mai, _she_ was back to ignoring Sokka completely, no doubt seeing him as nothing more than a blip on the routine of her day. All of which fit in nicely with Ty Lee's assumption that Mai's night-time interview with Sokka in the weapons room was in aid of Azula's purposes. So Mai's interest would not likely interfere with hers. In any case, Ty Lee figured she had at least another day in which to enjoy the Tribesman's company. Assuming, that is, she could find a way to get him alone again. In the meantime, it was nice to have him standing there before them, even if he _was_ scowling.

* * *

Mai considered the distribution of weight in Sokka's stance as he stood with arms crossed on his chest, the fingers of one hand drumming on his forearm. She thought she detected a tension in the muscles of his calf, although she couldn't be sure since his calf was encased in obviously very-forgiving leather. Something told her that Sokka's boot would have been very carefully fit to him, no matter the pace of his growth.

The _academic_ in her idly wondered at the availability of cobblers at the Poles.

The _warrior_ in her wondered if that tenseness was a prelude to some foolish attempt at attack or escape. She appraised the guard's stance, reasonably satisfied with his alertness, but shifted her own position anyway such that her arm would have no impediment in releasing steel should the need arise.

"Are you recovered enough from your injuries to get some exercise?" Ty Lee asked. She had remembered his insistence on a change of scene before indulging her in any further amorous pursuits. Now was as good of a time as any to broach the subject; he was already out of the cell and Azula actually seemed to be in a fairly good mood.

Three pairs of eyes widened in surprise. Possibly a fourth set did as well, but this was less apparent behind the face plate of the helmeted guard.

"What?" She asked innocently. "He _said_ he wanted a walk, and he's been in that cell recuperating pretty much ever since he got here. Why shouldn't he want some exercise?"

"Why should _we_ care? He _is_ the enemy." Mai sighed. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't need to be in tip-top shape to meet _your_ needs, Ty Lee, and it would probably better serve the Fire Nation if he were physically incapacitated." Mai kept Azula's face in the corner of her vision. Actually, she was very curious to see how the princess would respond to this bald statement of fact. It had made sense to give Sokka sufficient medical care to get him mobile enough to walk to the ship after the battle, given his value as a hostage and bait. And certainly Ty Lee's infatuation was sufficient to explain keeping him reasonably fed. But if Azula was keeping him alive merely to indulge Ty Lee, why _did_ she bring him out of his cell this morning, long before anyone could expect the acrobat to be awake? Perhaps she'd get a clue to an answer from this exchange.

* * *

Sokka had been asking himself the same question, and he looked with interest as well for Azula's reaction. Mind you, he found Mai's frank statement regarding his situation rather disconcerting. That all three girls looked upon him as something of a toy to placate Ty Lee's sybaritic appetites was highly offensive. His sense of _person_hood was frankly shocked, and his _male_ ego struggled between being flattered at the attention and outraged at the assumption that he had no choice in the matter.

It did not, on the other hand, surprise him much that Mai would make the assertion. The girl's attitude showed a careful blend of indifference to the world in general and deference to the princess. He had decided, based largely on Mai's apparent desire to wield his boomerang and corresponding willingness to seek him out for lessons without Azula's active permission, that this attitude was in fact a _mask_. But he had no real idea of what lay _beneath_ the mask.

"Really, Mai, you give him too much credit. Ty Lee can stroll with him on deck if she wishes; it's not as if he'd have any chance of getting away," Azula waved dimissively, mentally glad that Mai had spoken first, giving her a chance to consider her response. She honestly felt secure in Ty Lee's ability and loyalty to her, so Sokka would not escape and affording him time on deck would do no harm. She calculated that it would do his ego _more_ harm to treat him as Ty Lee's pet than as a true prisoner, which should offset any benefit he might receive from such limited freedom. And best of all, he would know it was all at _her_ hands to control.

"Oh goody! Come, Handsome, I'll show you the trebuchets – I _know_ you'll like that!" Ty Lee leapt from her cushion over the table and off the dais to land neatly at Sokka's side, clutching his right arm at the elbow before he could do more than startle slightly backwards. The guard looked at Ty Lee, then at Azula for direction. Azula looked pointedly at the pair and nodded. He followed discreetly as Ty Lee led a shocked Sokka away.

Mai followed the little grouping with her eyes briefly, then returned her gaze to the princess.

"You're not _worried_ that he might find a way to influence her? She seems rather badly smitten this time." Mai asked quietly. She was intrigued by Azula's unwonted slackness. Even given her tolerance for Ty Lee's antics such flexibility was rare to see indeed.

"You think so? I _thought_ you found the Tribesman unappealing," Azula welcomed the query as an opportunity to find out just what Mai might have discovered from her own time alone with Sokka the night before. She had noted that Mai had not provided a written report.

"He is, I suspect, rather more devious than Ty Lee imagines. As for his attractions for her, well, you've heard her yourself." Mai congratulated herself on side-stepping Azula's question as to her own assessment of those attractions. She still wasn't sure about that herself.

Azula gave a rather unladylike snort. "Of _course_ he is! The Avatar's _lemur_ is more devious than Ty Lee can imagine! But _that_ has never been a problem before, so why should it now? As for his ability to influence her? Well, that's where our dear Ty Lee's denseness comes in rather handy, isn't it?"

Mai wondered briefly how Azula spoke of _her_, remembering again less-than-gentle pranks Azula and Ty Lee had played upon her when they all were much younger. She rather thought that Azula underestimated Ty Lee's perceptions even as she overestimated her loyalty. Then again, she seriously doubted if Ty Lee would jeopardize her position with the princess over a mere _infatuation_.

"I don't presume to advise you, of course. The prisoner has, I believe, rather more fortitude and cleverness than most. There is also something akin to our code of honor in him. If you wish to break him, _that_ may be your best avenue of approach." Mai herself trod a narrow path, finding herself oddly disinclined to say too much about her perceptions of Sokka, yet determined to continue to serve Azula well.

Azula eyed Mai narrowly for a moment, trying to assess the girl's words against the guardsman's report from last night's training room. She had been a bit surprised to learn that Mai had allowed Sokka access to weapons, that the two of them seemed to have engaged in some kind of competition that had apparently ended in something of a draw. The guardsman's report was woefully lacking in detail, but it had actually been Mai's willingness to extend such freedom to Sokka that had decided her on allowing his perambulation around the deck with Ty Lee. She trusted Mai to weigh risks and benefits carefully and make the right choice. She was, however, a bit surprised at how _little_ had seemed to emerge from Mai's risk play.

But then again, perhaps her friend had done better than she thought. Azula had assumed Sokka's actions would be entirely tied to Water Tribe affiliations. Sokka would certainly be willing to die for the sake of Water Tribe goals which would include, by extension, Avatar goals. But Mai seemed to be implying that more than mere associational ties would bind him. A code of honor?

Now that _did_ open up intriguing possibilities!


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: Okay. I'm reaffirming my early intent on dedicating this to fanfiction's more raunchy fare. Some of you will be thankful. Whoohoo!_

_Disclaimer: Perhaps at this point I've changed the characters, etc. enough to be exempt from copyright law… But, since I'm STILL claiming nothing in the way of rights or remedies, I'm sure we don't need to go there…_

Chapter 17

Sokka had actually gotten a reasonably good account on the workings of the Fire Nation Navy's trebuchets from Aang, who had, after all, had spent the better part of a day wrecking any number of the shipboard machines back at the North Pole. Sokka had also seized the opportunity to row a kayak out to the remains of one boat to see for himself, so Ty Lee's tour held nothing new for him. He pretended interest, however, and refrained from pointing out the obvious errors she made in explaining their operation to him, such as mistaking the brake for the release lever. He did pay attention to the location of the wheel that, when spun, controlled the counterbalancing mechanism that raised the giant weapon's platform up from storage below deck, noting that it was held in position purely by a pin through its spokes.

He also noticed that his guard, while far enough away to allow them a modicum of private conversation – yeah, apparently he too saw Sokka as Ty Lee's boy-toy, which really made Sokka cringe – was still close enough to prove an effective deterrent to any attempt to run away. A girl who could paralyze your legs with two jabs and a guard who could incinerate you from ten feet away with hardly more than a gesture. Sokka considered rather wryly that Azula's confidence in his remaining a prisoner was certainly well-founded.

He'd like to hope it actually signaled overconfidence and was something that could work against her. At some point, maybe it could.

"…but the stench is really something awful!" Ty Lee finished cheerfully.

"And it's not so great to be on the receiving end either," he responded, carefully holding down memories. "Tell me, Brat. Have you ever been on the hurtin' end of your country's confrontational habits?"

Her eyes clouded and brow furrowed as Ty Lee's full lower lip extended in something of a pout. He ignored a temptation to nibble at its plumpness. "If you're smart, Sokka, you do your best to _stay_ on the other end_. I_ pay close attention to what the universe is telling me, and it keeps _my_ skin whole. You should too."

He was surprised at the earnest note in her voice. It belied the playfulness she usually put forth, and Sokka found himself struck with yet another element to complicate his already rather compromised assessment of this particular jailor.

* * *

Azula was involved with reading the latest day's reports, both from scouts she'd sent out herself from the regiment under her command and the news sent her by message-hawk from the myriad of commanders that she had, over time, suborned to her will. There was, thankfully, nothing from her father directly, although the daily report from her personal household was always enlightening as to the goings on in the capital. She was most interested in word from Ba Sing Se though. The courier should be arriving there soon with the Tribesman's tunic, and he had a message-hawk with him to get word back to her of the Avatar's reaction as soon as possible. It took all her discipline to focus on the day's routine. With a twist of her lips, Azula acknowledged to herself that much of her inspiration to bring Sokka up on deck in the first place was out of a desire for pure distraction. Pity she couldn't have thought of a good reason to keep him around for further distraction.

* * *

Mai had left the breakfast table to adjourn back below decks to the weapons practice room. She would have a good hour before the next scheduled training session for crew members, and she intended to use at least part of that time with the boomerang again. As long as she had the room to herself and, when someone did see her with it she didn't attempt to hide it, it was unlikely that Azula would get wind of it. The crew was used to watching her work out with various weapons, and she was known to keep to herself when not with the princess or Ty Lee. Mai found it easier to think when she was training, and she hoped to find a reasonable means to drag Sokka back down there for another lesson some time before the day was out. Perhaps the synergy of working out with Sokka's weapon would inspire her.

Neither Mai nor Azula bothered to think about what Ty Lee would do with Sokka after their little stroll together. Ty Lee was predictable and notably impatient. For once, neither girl felt any prurient interest in ascertaining whether or not such haste would be, in this particular case, rewarded. Perhaps they simply didn't want to know.

* * *

"I don't get it. If one of _us _was to wise-ass to 'er highness like that, there'd be nothing left but a _grease spot_ on the deck to clean up!

Thing is, t' kid's _gotta_ know he's flirtin' with death, but it _don'_ stop him. And he's no better with Lady Ty Lee. Oh yeah, _she_'s got a soft spot for him, no doubt. But why she should choose _him_ over the fine Fire Nation specimens we got on board… is beyond me. 'Course, maybe she got _bored_ with 'em. That's women for you. Treat 'em right and yer dirt 'neath thur feet, but act like you don' give a damn and they're all over you…" _The pause lengthened a bit as memory drew details that enthralled and finally erased his careful guardsman's diction. "_Damn, though, you shoulda _been_ there. I swear he's doin' _everything_ he can to get a rise outta her highness – just like yesterday, all the time ignoring 'er being her usual nasty self – but all she does is _talk_ nasty! If I din't _know _better, I'd think maybe she was as interested in getting 'im to _bed_ her as her ladyship. But naw. The princess ain't gonna stoop to such as _'im,_ even for a lark. Fire Lord 'ud kill her, 'e would, if 'e ever heard such a thing. 'S one thing for the Lady Ty Lee to run around like that – 'er family's _always _been on the wild side. If you know what I mean. Something else again to think 'er highness would carry on with a Tribesman."

The guardsman snuffled noisily at his drink. It was the third of the evening purchased for him by his fellows, eager for a first-hand account of the goings on between the prisoner and their noble fare.

"Better than a play, you know?" Said one, who'd spent most of his career with the Royal Navy within easy reach of the Capital and its entertainments. "I tell you, once these nobles get off the leash, it's unheard of what they'll get up to…"

"_Don't_ go saying anything bad about Lady Ty Lee," said one young stalwart, who'd received something in the way of attentions from the lady in question. "She's a goddess, and _not_ bound by common rules."

"None of them are, and more's the problem," grizzled an elder in the corner. "But I gotta admit, Her Highness and the ladies are a match for any ten of us. Guess _that _earns them the right to do what they want, iffen their birth don't."

"So… what's the deal with the Water Tribesman? I mean, I know he travels with the Avatar, but what makes _him_ special?" This time it was the young man from the galley. He'd bought the guardsman his first drink, still feeling glum about Ty Lee's apparent preferment of Sokka over him.

"Ah, it's just the romance of the thing, you know?" said the chef. It was his first time joining the ranks for drinks, but the last twenty-four hours had been particularly hard for him, and he saw promise in his apprentice that he did _not_ want thwarted love to extinguish. "He's a stranger from a strange land, not ill-looking and well-built." He shrugged noncommittedly. "He's a challenge to their charms. Women are foolish that way."

He eyed his junior's form, and blessed the fate that had seen fit to throw a spoke in the wheel of early infatuations. He still had a chance to work with this boy, after all, in more ways than one.

* * *

From the trebuchets Ty Lee led him on up to the bow, with its signature hinged cowling that, when lowered, provided a ramp down which troops could be marched from the ships' lower decks. This was one of the odder innovations to ship design that the Fire Nation had wrought. Besides men and materiel, Sokka had spent much of the intervening year-plus since his home had been invaded envisioning just how the ramp could facilitate the shipping of goods to ports that didn't boast large piers or towering cranes. Were these ramps unique to the military? Despite all appearances and protests to the contrary, Sokka was _not_ a warrior born – again, he _was _a visionary.

But Ty Lee wasn't interested in answering questions that had nothing to do with her. She had brought him here because the backsweep of the cowling cast the end of the bow in pretty much perpetual shadow. She knew that it would be much harder for Azula or Mai, back amidships, to observe them in this dimness, especially since she had deliberately left one of the trebuchets still out on the foredeck. Oh sure, the _guard_ could still see them from his position leaning against one of the machine's uprights. But _he_ had the decency to stay at a reasonable distance, and had turned his head so he wasn't looking straight at them anymore. Ty Lee giggled. One of the benefits of having a rather "aggressive" reputation was that men who embarrassed easily tended to try to ignore her. And generally, that suited her _just_ fine.

She had, of course, noticed that Sokka's attention was not fully on her. He was far too busy taking note of the numbers of men on deck and their positioning. That was fine with her. He would certainly come to the conclusion that escape was hopeless. And then perhaps he would dispense with this nonsense about negotiating with her. In the meantime, she would happily continue to disabuse him regarding any chances he might be willing to take by demonstrating this ship's forces in all their glory.

Azula would be proud of her.

Of course, while she was intimidating him she would also try to interrogate him, and if that degenerated into a bit of nip and tickle, well, did anyone really expect anything else? Ty Lee shivered a bit in anticipation, inadvertently squeezing Sokka's arm a bit more tightly.

"You cold, Brat? Let's go back in the sun, then. The view's lousy tucked away in here anyway."

"Well, _that_ was hardly flattering," She pouted and refused to budge. Moving out into the sun would defeat the purpose of their being there in the first place.

"Huh? Oh, cause _you're_ the view. Hah, like _I'm_ gonna say something nice to you." Sokka shrugged, but he didn't try to pull away. It was really rather pleasant to have a pretty girl press all her soft, delicious curves against him, even if she was Fire Nation and making some kind of ownership claim on his ass.

"You _should_, though." Ty Lee said with a smile. "After all, without me you'd be back down in that smelly old cell, you wouldn't have gotten dinner at all last night, and if you're not _very_ nice indeed you probably won't get dinner."

"Oh. Well, when you put it like that…" Sokka rolled his eyes, dramatically bent the clutched arm across his chest, bringing her slightly in front of him, and covered one of those clutching hands gently with his own, delicately stroking it. "My Lady, if you will continue to brighten our shelter with your loveliness I will warm you with my affection."

"Ooh! That was _quite_ prettily said. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of barbarian," she cooed, removing one hand from his arm as she leaned back provocatively, reaching up to touch his chin with her index finger. "Not that I don't think the barbarian thing has a lot going for it."

"It's all bullshit, you know," he said, stepping back against the cowling into deeper shadow away from her. "You can't believe anything I say because I'm bound to hate you. It's just the way things have to be."

"So you _say_. I don't believe it, though." Ty Lee's cheerfulness did not falter as she followed him into the darkness happily. "I mean, if you _really_ didn't care you wouldn't bother to warn me against you, now would you? You'd just take the opportunity to seduce me and then chance an escape."

Sokka stayed silent, stone-faced. It was definitely a possibility he'd considered. Still _was_ considering, truth be told.

"And you'd end up dead if you tried it. If the guards didn't get you and you jumped overboard the fall would probably kill you. Azula got knocked overboard once apparently and it took her weeks to recover. The ship was riding a _lot_ lower in the water then because we had all that equipment for the Drill on board. And if you didn't die you'd _never_ get away… and I'd have a lot harder time trying to _protect_ you." She smiled sweetly. "So let's just forget about the escape part and go right to the seduction."

"You're no fun at all." Sokka grimaced. Ty Lee had a way of putting him off-balance that he couldn't seem to adjust to. "Who's seducing whom? Don't you realize that you pursuing me so hard is _really _doing a number on my manly pride? _I'm_ supposed to be the hunter, not the other way around."

So Sokka whined a bit; he didn't want her to think he was being _entirely_ serious. On the other hand, whining was a _great_ way to make people discount you.

"Stop worrying about that. Your silly Water Tribe pride probably wouldn't have let you pursue me anyway. Just let your pride be stroked by my _interest_ in you. I don't chase just _anybody_, you know."

"I'm supposed to take your word on that, I suppose. But nothing's changed, Brat. I notice you said if I weren't here with you I'd be back in that cell," Now he introduced a new note of petulance. "Thought we had a deal. You offered me more comfortable accommodations. Seems to me if I don't hold out for that I lose all my bargaining power. You _are_ still serious about us… doing stuff together, aren't you?" He was just about ready to give up. But not on the escape part. She was dead wrong on that, at least.

"Mmm, yes. _Stuff_! And then maybe some more _stuff_!" Ty Lee's eyes twinkled merrily. He may be trying to play tough but he couldn't bring himself to admit to what his side of the bargain actually was. This awkward shyness was extremely appealing, but she hoped he'd drop it soon in favor of that ravening wolf who had kissed her so thoroughly the day before. Dangerous Sokka, after all, was terribly sexy.

Of course, maybe _this_ wasn't the place for Dangerous Sokka. It might give that guard over there reason to put a tighter leash on him, or report as much to Azula. And _that _wouldn't be good. After all, whichever role he played he was still insisting on getting out of that damned cell for good. Ty Lee had some ideas on that front, but they required Azula assuming Sokka was cowed enough by Fire Nation that he would behave himself.

Maybe she should just tell him as much. After all, they both had the same goals in mind, didn't they? "C'mon, Handsome. The point is you're _not_ in that cell. And I think I said that it was thanks to your being with me that you aren't locked up. So. You should be making an effort to _stay_ with me, silly."

* * *

Sokka swallowed thickly. Unlike him, Ty Lee did not appear to be operating off imagination or illustrated manuscripts. She had just offered him space in her cabin instead of the cell – hadn't she? And did she really think Azula would accept such an arrangement? Ty Lee had earlier surprised him by demonstrating that she was not nearly as empty-headed as he had assumed, and that her perspective might also be rather more broad regarding the consequences of the Fire Nation road to conquest. The fact that she clearly still wanted him to… _to attend to her_ hadn't changed with these realizations. But the whole situation had taken on yet more shaded colors now.

He mentally kicked himself. He'd been on the verge of succumbing to her charms right here on deck, maybe overpowering her and then attempting to use her as a shield for the guard while he tried to escape. They'd fought before, so he shouldn't have felt any particular guilt if the need for some measure of violence was called for, and if the guard was willing to risk injuring her, that wasn't his fault. Was it?

The truth was he really didn't want to hurt Ty Lee if he could help it. Or, for that matter, did he want to be hurt by her, he had the grace to admit to himself. So yeah, he felt guilty contemplating what he had been about to do.

At the same time, the fact that she was smarter than he'd thought was a bit chilling to those charitable feelings. The girl had _played_ him from the very beginning for her own ends. And the fact that she may well have felt her own pain or losses only reinforced her position as one of Azula's minions.

It was highly unlikely that they shared any particular goals, except maybe keeping him alive for a while longer.

Sokka thought a bit about that. Guilt, he discovered, was a somewhat friable concept.

Ty Lee had been right that he did care. Oh, not so much that he cared about her, but he definitely cared a lot about his own self-image. Bamboozling an empty-headed ditz who had the ill luck but good taste to fall for him was facially reprehensible, and it would have been hard to live with in the long haul had he actually succeeded. But somehow it was less so if said ditz was a canny enemy whose only goals were to satisfy her own selfish aims. In the latter case, guilt probably didn't have a place. So why was it that he still felt bad? Sokka hesitated to look too closely at that.

Back up a bit. There was still the question as to whether Azula would swallow his acquiescence to dangling from Ty Lee's leash. This _would _be necessary in order for her to allow him out of lock-up. Ugh. And yet, if he wanted out of that cell, it appeared he had no choice.

Yes, there was no doubt about it. Ty Lee had played him. Funny thing was, he had the distinct impression she'd also played Princess Azula.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Sorry. Still not finding Season 3 terribly inspiring. So I'm trying to still keep this fun (read: kinky/sexy) as it rests firmly in season 2, prior to nasty discoveries about the corrupt Earth Kingdom government. And if you think this is easy, well, by all means, feel free to take over! Read in these comments apologies for the delay in posting, content, etc. I, on the other hand, think the damn thing is progressing rather nicely._

_Disclaimer: Hmm. No commercial content, blatent acknowledgment of prior ownership of characters and concept over the course of a year, and no orders to cease and desist? Looks like tacit acceptance and at least a limited publishing right to this unlicensed eye. And, since I'm STILL claiming nothing in the way of rights or remedies, I'm sure we don't need to look further into copyright infringment…_

* * *

Chapter 18

Azula was a bit surprised. A fairly significant amount of time had gone by and, although she couldn't actually see them, she knew that Ty Lee and the prisoner were still up on deck, up at the bow of the ship. She idly wondered if Ty Lee had lost all sense of decorum and was assaulting the young man there and then. It would be a first, but Azula was quite aware that one of the driving forces behind Ty Lee's promiscuity was a sense of rebellion. She clearly got a sexual thrill out of challenging convention. Azula was convinced it was only a matter of time before her friend would lose much of her value at intelligence-gathering because discretion would cease to have meaning for her.

Still, she had to admit to herself finally that she would have been a bit disappointed if Sokka had been caught so swiftly by Ty Lee's lure. It wasn't that she doubted the other girl's attractions. Spirits no! Ty Lee couldn't walk into a room without drawing male eyes, even in the commanding presence of the princess herself, a sad truth she had been forced to acknowledge ever since Ty Lee hit puberty. There was an overt sexuality in her cheerfulness, her frank welcome of attention as merely her due, that held no element of slyness or calculation. Once Azula had figured it out, she thought she understood it completely, and equally understood that, for all her talent at deception, it was something _she_ would never be able to emulate. While Azula could mask the truth among the lies – it was, actually, simply a matter of treating the truth as no more believable than a lie, quite the opposite of most people's attempts – she could _not_ assume a mask of innocence.

Innocent appreciation came naturally to Ty Lee. While the girl obviously had nothing of innocence when it came to experience, somehow she still managed to remain innocent when it came to her expectations of other people. Although there _were_ times when Azula had to wonder…

Of course, males seemed congenitally incapable of recognizing sexual duplicity in any case. And male egos were always caught up by that wide-eyed appreciation of… whatever it was that Ty Lee always seemed to find to admire in the male at question. Azula smirked to herself as she considered how many times the only thing she herself could find satisfactory in him was the young man's willingness to admire her friend.

Odd, then, that one of the things she found particularly satisfying in Sokka was his _lack_ of willingness to admire Ty Lee. She seemed to be dragging him kicking and screaming to her thrall – or maybe a better term would be clutching and biting, given what she had heard of their interactions to date. Azula smirked. Still, it was a certainty that his ego _would_ be swayed by the lure of a pretty face and a blatant sexual come-on. When at some point he would also see it for an opportunity, either to save himself or to attempt escape, the final impetus for him to succumb would be provided. Only a stupid barbarian with no balls would stand on his pride against the blandishments of a Fire Nation beauty given its potential for, at the least, subversion. And it was obvious to Azula that Sokka was far from stupid and possessed of, well, the impressive required _nerve_, in any case.

Her lip curled as the smirk broadened. As for the other aspects of his ballsiness, she would have to wait for Ty Lee to comment. And no doubt, she _would_ comment. She always did.

* * *

The boomerang lodged itself in the torso of one of the targets across the room.

Mai would have been pleased if she had been aiming that direction, but she had released the weapon sooner than intended and the wild trajectory it took owed more to the power of her swing than any finesse or control. It had wobbled terribly as well.

She chewed thoughtfully on her cheek as she walked over to reclaim the boomerang. She recognized that there appeared to be an element of anger in her efforts that was impeding her progress. This surprised her. Mai had long years' practice in the fine art of sublimating emotion in physical exertion. It was a practice she owed to Azula's example and her goading. And aside from her relief at being rescued from the closely prescribed existence of the conquered Omashu's governor's family – make that New Ozai – she had found little to rouse her emotions beyond the mild irritation of Ty Lee's incessant cheerfulness and rampant bedhopping.

Mai didn't really give a damn about either Azula's politics or her climb to power.

The run-ins with the Avatar and his cronies had been amusing, to her anyway. After all, it wasn't as if she herself had actually failed. Okay, getting swept upriver by that damned bison's beaver-tail had been annoying, but she'd been smart enough to avoid taking a dive in the sludge-soup with Ty Lee in her obviously hopeless chase through that stupid drill. Mai never doubted the final outcome of Azula's long pursuit. After all, Azula never gave up. She brought all the forces of her father's resources and her own formidable talents to every endeavor. She always won.

So the setbacks along the way had been, at most, tedious. Still, it had prolonged Mai's relative state of freedom as one of Azula's companions, so she saw no need to complain.

Was that it? Did she, deep-down, somehow believe that with Sokka's capture the Avatar's run of luck was at an end? And did that … disappoint her? Well, with the Avatar in hand, only Zuko and his uncle would remain of the Fire Lord's commission to his daughter. And much as Mai desperately wanted to see Zuko again she also _feared_ it, and dreaded returning to her father's house.

Mai didn't much care for the answer her brain provided her to the question of her emotional disturbance. It smacked of unacceptable fear and, worse, potentially treasonous thoughts. Still, there were _worse_ possibilities.

But _none_ of this was helping her throw that damned boomerang.

As she stepped back into position behind the line she forced herself to focus on the memory of the Tribesman's hands correcting the positioning of her own hands along the boomerang, the press of his chest against her shoulder and his warm breath in her ear as he mocked her. She felt a responsive tingling shoot throughout her body as she let her hips shift, her arm sweeping sinuously back as she let her wrist flex and then snap.

The boomerang swept across the room in a graceful arc just above eye-level, not quite managing a tight enough curve to circle back to her before hitting the wall.

But_ oh_! It was still _incredibly_ beautiful!

She felt a heady sense of elation at achieving her best throw yet. A tiny voice at the back of her brain asked her if the warmth rushing color not just to her face and throat but also her extremities was born of triumph at her _throw_ or something more closely related to the _memories_ she had invoked to achieve it.

* * *

"All right, Brat," Sokka said, stretching one hand to curve around Ty Lee's waist and pulling her up against him. "You've got my attention, and no doubt we've both got Sparky's attention over there. Just remember that I'm a poor dumb barbarian Tribesman, so you're gonna have to spell out for me _exactly_ what it is you're offering me."

As he spoke, it struck him that the whole thing verged on farce.

Ty Lee _meant_ for him to have sex with her.

Wrack his brain as he might the reality was he could see no means around it. Nor, for that matter, could he find any particular reason, other than sheer nationalistic pride and a niggling moralistic sense that it could be considered a betrayal of his attachment to Suki, why he should _not_ so indulge.

Face it. He was _already_ a lost cause as far as clandestine operations went. While it might be morally repugnant, the simple reality was the girl wanted it and was prepared to play nice with him to get it. _Possibly_ nice enough to present a means of escape, or at least to look the other way when he finally made an attempt. _Why_ she wanted it was simply not his problem, so there was no point dwelling on it.

Which was a good thing, because the brat's hands had worked their way up under his tunic again and were playing havoc with the skin of his chest. They were doing strange things to his nipples that he had thought were supposed to be limited in their effect to females. Interesting, if not at all conducive to an _objective_ analysis of the pros and cons of sleeping with her.

In lieu of groaning Sokka reached his other hand to cover one of hers over the fabric of his tunic with a hard squeeze, leaning his head down to rest against her forehead.

"_Nuh-unh_, Brat. Keep that up and my momma would be _very_ unhappy with me. We Water Tribe boys are _very_ fond of our mommas. I might be forced to do something rather ugly to avoid disappointing her, and then Sparky would probably get mad, and after him Azula. Do you _really_ wanna go that route?"

Ty Lee heard dangerous Sokka lurking beneath these words, and despite herself she was sorely tempted.

"Momma wouldn't _mind_ you doing something _ugly_?" she whispered breathily.

"If I told you how Momma died, you'd understand how Momma might find _ugly_ on Fire Nation looks pretty _good_," Sokka's other hand had found its way to the hand still rolling his flesh between feverish fingers. He dug his thumb hard into the flesh of her inner wrist.

A part of him _screamed_ at this deliberate effort to stop the delightful stimulus.

Sokka reminded himself that _that_ part of his body's goals were _purely_ personal and not even shared by the rest of his brain. Still, that part of him _had_ resulted in some interesting successes as far as Pretty-in-Pink was concerned. Although, he had to admit, it was also responsible for his most egregious mistake.

Ty Lee whimpered. _Again_, he'd managed to corral both of her hands so she couldn't paralyze him. _Again,_ there was a palpable threat in his voice. He could seriously _hurt_ her long before the fire-bending guard could do anything about it.

The risk had been there all along. She had, in fact, courted it. And, as a shiver swept her body, Ty Lee molded herself against him, relishing the inflexibility and strength hinted by his initial refusal to relax against her. She let her hands fall limp within his grasp.

He shifted subtly against her, his forehead still heavy against hers, but now his eyes drilled into hers with an intensity she hadn't expected. Suddenly, he grinned. And a blankness seemed to mask those intense eyes.

"Damn, girl," he said, with a lilt to his voice that had been absent since his confrontation with Azula. "As I said before, you _like_ this!"

Now Ty Lee squirmed in his grasp. "I rather thought I'd made it perfectly clear that I wanted you. Surely you're not attempting to play dumb on me?"

He shook his head. "Not that. I got it yesterday. No, I'm talking about _this_!" And he brought her hands together under his shirt, gripping the wrists together brutally as he pulled them down, out from under his shirt and then off to one side. His other hand snaked to the small of her back, holding her close against him.

* * *

It was an awkward position for her, one arm caught between their bodies just below her breasts and too far across to gain leverage to dig her elbow into his ribs. It was uncomfortable as well as awkward, although she was disinclined to complain. Still, it was one thing to thrill in the heat of a very masculine but rather mindless struggle for sexual dominance. It was something altogether different for him to _realize _that she enjoyed his exercise of dominance.

Now the scales had truly shifted, and she wasn't at all sure that she could continue to manage him.

From last night's encounter she was already thoroughly aware of the potential hiding within his deceptively angular adolescent form.

His body was hard. Long, lean muscles stretched taut over bones clearly still growing radiated a natural heat that had nothing to do with her appetite for him. Despite the awkwardness of youth he moved with an economy of motion she associated with wild animals. Ty Lee was more familiar with the aggressive and power-filled moves of her compatriots or Earth Kingdom enemies. No. There was a stealth and graceful strength in the Tribesman that was somehow inherent to him, just as darkness hid within the bland paleness of his blue eyes.

Ty Lee was reminded of the deceptive clarity of water in a glass, the deeper shades of a pool's still depths, and the shifting hues of the vast ocean. Again, _no_. No amount of Fire Nation brilliance would _ever_ reveal the true depths of the Water Tribes.

Even so, his skin _had_ responded to her touch in ways that reaffirmed her confidence as a woman. And while she knew he was far more clever than most of the men she had claimed, she also knew he was still _just_ a man, and a very _young_ man, at that. When his grip had crushed hers, and his voice had invoked family memories, she was sure she had _still_ been well in control of the situation.

Mai could never understand, and Ty Lee doubted that even Azula could appreciate, the raw emotional response of a man who felt threatened when he had a woman in his arms. Simply put, the _woman_ held all the control. Even if the woman were an enemy, _she_ still had more control than he did.

Because, after all, a woman _understood, _and could thus _use_, the male's _need_ to protect her. And the more noble he perceived himself, the more subject he was to such a need. Ty Lee had never had cause to doubt this belief, and she was absolutely certain that Sokka would not actually challenge that certainty.

Still, the risk that he _might…_ added a pleasurable _frisson_ to the whole encounter.

With every fiber of his being Sokka strove to avoid flinching away from Ty Lee. At the same time, he strove to quench the uncomfortable heat that had arisen in his belly at the confirmation of his uneasy speculation that the Fire Nation girl actually _enjoyed_ his rough treatment of her. He assuaged his conscience with the notion that they were both much too young to discern the difference between passionate hate and passionate… he couldn't find the appropriate noun. It didn't _exist_ in his lexicon, given the feelings he had to admit to his darkest self she aroused in him.

Following the previous evening's script, he maintained his hard grip on her wrists while letting his mouth roam over her lips, her neck and shoulders with deliberation. The hand on her back slid down to cup the swell of her hips, pressing her hard against the growing firmness at his groin. As he splayed his fingers across her lush bottom he angled his forefinger along the cleft between her cheeks.

It occurred to Sokka that a scant year ago he had yet to embrace a girl not related to him by blood. Memories filled him of Yue's frantic kisses, and his own desperate explorations of Suki's lips, the warm, welcoming cavern of her mouth and the easy, playful sparring of their tongues as they searched for dominance between them.

_This is __not__ the same thing_, he reminded himself, pulling his lips away to both gather breath and search for a sense of calm and objectivity as he allowed his hand to continue kneading Ty Lee's ass. As her lips moved down his throat he noted the fire-bender guard's determined profile over by the trebuchet. Yep. The man was tense as hell. Sokka suspected that Sparky was no more comfortable as a _voyeur_ than _he_ was performing for an audience.

At least one of them was actually gaining some physical enjoyment out of the whole process, though. Even as he considered this, he noticed the guard's hand surreptitiously easing its way beneath the skirt of his armor. _Aw, damn_, he thought. _And I thought this was _farcical_ before!_

The brat had bitten his nipple. Never mind the coarse fabric between his skin and her teeth, or his firm – hell, call it what it was — _crushing_ grip upon her wrists be damned, she was fucking insatiable. A large corner of his brain vied between denying her the pleasure she obviously sought out of honor's sake and simply fucking her silly…

Sokka secretly thanked his guard for reawakening his sense of humor. Without it, he had a sneaking suspicion that Ty Lee's little nip would have driven him to _forget_ he was a prisoner on the deck of a Fire Nation warship and push her up against the wall with her oh-so-flexible legs up over his shoulders while he tested theory against reality. It would probably have been embarrassing for all concerned. Perhaps especially so if she'd let him do it.

He pictured Azula sending blue lightning through the guard's crotch to sizzle his own backside for daring to deflower – but wait, that wasn't the proper term for a girl as obviously experienced as Ty Lee, now was it – her right-hand girl. No, Ty Lee generally appeared on Azula's left, didn't she, so that made Mai the dominant henchperson, a term that only made him want to laugh even as the image itself appalled him. And here Sokka's brain _gave up_ attempting to supply narrative to the scene he'd conjured.

* * *

Ty Lee found _herself_ surprised. The groan she'd elicited as she closed her teeth over the fabric of his tunic turned into a chuckle even as she continued to warm the area with her damp breath. She rather enjoyed the feel of rough cloth against her lips – it was all one with the harsh grip on her wrists forcing her arms at an increasingly uncomfortable angle as she attempted to move down Sokka's chest even as their hips shifted against one another in a pleasant friction. She'd entwined one leg around his in the process, and felt deliciously unstable and dependent upon his support.

The laugh was all _wrong_ though. With a sudden start, Ty Lee remembered yesterday's kiss that had sent her careening along this trajectory. She had thought it had been harshly passionate – _barbarians at the gate ravishing the inhabitants_ kind of thing. In the echo of that chuckle Ty Lee remembered how steady Sokka's gaze had been afterwards, _how_, in her later visit, he'd cradled her head in a deceptively loose grasp just far enough away from the cell wall to suggest the potential of cracking bone should he lose control of himself and slam her head against it…

A sudden fear gripped her heart. Ty Lee had been _delighted_ to discover dangerous Sokka lurking in the Tribesman, brought out by her teasing sexuality in defense of his interested response to her. Dangerous Sokka was the warrior determined to prove himself above her blandishments. But no _thinking_ man was truly above her blandishments, so she hadn't been truly frightened of dangerous Sokka, even though he had thrilled her.

Because no thinking man could continue to think once his attention was sufficiently focused to other parts of his anatomy.

And dangerous Sokka was as much a prey to his anatomy as any other guy.

So why the hell was Sokka chuckling when he should have been growling fiercely and readying to do the ravishment thing, anyway?


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Okay, nothing raunchy yet. Call me a tease, I don't care. There is something of a plot at work here, and I'm as bound by it as anything else. Remember, this story is an exploration of _four_ personalities working against/with each other. Fun times, fun times.

_Disclaimer: No claims, no rights, no worries. No point litigating. Are we clear?_

Chapter 19

"Enough, Brat," Sokka released Ty Lee's hands as he gently pushed her away from him. "I'm guessing Sparky's got enough to show I'm well in tow. And frankly, I don't much care for this 'performance-on-command' routine you've got playing." He sniffed in disdain even as he knew his prior actions had already bound him, one way or another, to the Fire Nation girl.

Ty Lee attempted to snuggle up against him, but he held her off, deliberately ignoring, this time, her deadly hands. She was honor-bound to disable him and, within seconds, he lay defenseless upon the deck. He sighed as she knelt beside him.

"You _knew_ I'd do that, didn't you?" she mused. "You really _shouldn't_ be so stubborn about this, you know. What if I decide you're _not _worth the trouble you're causing me?"

"I guess that's the point," he countered with a smile, glad that this time he'd actually let his muscles go slack slightly _before_ she hit his pressure points, allowing him to slide down the wall to end in a slightly less humiliating position than his previous sprawls. "What is it worth to _me_ to meet you half-way, Brat? I admit, you make me crazy here, but it's not like I don't know what _that's_ like anyway, and it's _not_ enough to make me stupid."

He paused. She looked askance at him.

"C'mon, I _thought_ we had a deal. You can't tell me I'm up here in the fresh air now because of _you_. No, Princess Perfection got some wild hair up her butt to drag me up here at sunrise – _you_ had nothing to do with it." He smiled that lazy, cocky smile that made her tummy do flips and the rebellious strain in her soul giggle. "_Your _call, Brat. What's it worth to _you_?"

Ty Lee raised her arm and the fire-bender guard, who'd been watching this altercation from his position by the trebuchet, completely frozen for several minutes, stepped forward awkwardly.

Ty Lee gazed at Sokka thoughtfully while the guard took Sokka's arm to haul him up bodily over his shoulder. "Take him … to my cabin."

It was the guard's turn to look askance. Ty Lee attempted to stare down the faceless man before her, and finally rolled her eyes in frustration. "Just _do_ it. I'm going to talk to Princess Azula now and when you're done you can give _her_ your report." She smirked. "He won't be going anywhere for a while. _Trust me_." The guard knew he was safe enough following her instructions.

And with a flip of her braid she turned her back upon him as she stalked off to find Azula.

Sokka had not _actually_ expected such an abrupt decision on Ty Lee's part, and he was mortified to find himself being helplessly hauled off to the girl's bedroom.

_Fuck! (Owch. Not really…, I mean…)_

"She was kidding, right? Ha-ha." He ventured from his position over the guard's shoulder, head helplessly butting against the man's lower back, arms and legs dangling bonelessly.

"Couldn't say, except that I'm taking you where she told me to, although I can't imagine why."

Sokka was even _more_ surprised to hear an answer. To date, no one besides the princess and her friends had said word one to him. The guard continued, "You realize, of course, that Lady Ty Lee is … _popular _on board. _You'd_ do well to mind your manners with her."

Sokka chewed on that remark a bit as the guard entered the tower.

"Don't think she actually wants _that_ from me." He let a few beats go by as the guard continued his walk, taking a sharp corner. He didn't complain when his head caromed off the wall uncomfortably, deliberately, no doubt. "So. Say _you_ were in my position, what would you do?"

Hell, might as well solicit input where he could.

The guard grunted. "Fuck her silly, 'course. If you're _good_ enough at it, it might keep you alive a day or two longer." He shifted Sokka's weight a bit as he took the first set of stairs. "Mind you, you're probably dead anyway. Princess doesn't kill you, her ladyship's _friends_ will, if you make her cry."

_Like I wasn't feeling pressure before_. Sokka closed his eyes, willing his nerve ending to regain feeling and his limbs their response to his own control. Yes, as he had thought, he could detect some sense of sensation returning already, although he was still quite helpless. "I s'pose _you're_ one of those friends?"

"Yep."

"Thought so. Well, thanks for the advice. I'll definitely take it into consideration."

Sokka didn't see any point in continuing this particular conversation. After all, the man had appeared content to get himself off on watching the two of them up on the bow, from a distance, no less. For all he was a "deadly fire-bender", Sokka could not but help find a _voyeur_ to be rather less than a threat.

Still less a practical consultant. Sokka found himself swallowing yet another chuckle as the man's shoulder dug into his stomach.

On the other hand, at least for the moment, it _was_ the guard who was in control.

Not to mention the reality that the man probably wasn't a virgin, unlike Sokka himself. Oh no, as one of Ty Lee's 'friends' who knew just what kind of experience Sparky had that might possibly be helpful to Sokka.

With tremendous effort Sokka attempted to regain some sense of focus as to what his next move should be. That is, when he _could_ move again.

And just how many floors above the main deck was Ty Lee's cabin, anyway?

* * *

"Don't be an idiot, Ty Lee," Azula paused to pour a fresh cup from the teapot brought just minutes before her friend had reappeared on the dais, somewhat breathless and with definitely heightened color. "He's a _Water Tribesman_. Worse still, he's an _Avatar_ companion! It's one thing to seduce him; and quite another to give him run of your cabin and, potentially, the ship itself...No."

"Azula, he's totally _cowed_," Ty Lee wheedled in her most reasonable voice. Ty Lee did not make a distinction between "wheedling" and reasonableness. On occasion, this lack of subtlety worked in her favor. "He knows full well he has no chance against me – doesn't really even try to fight - "

(Ty Lee ignored the evidence of 'dangerous Sokka' – it would _not_ help in her argument with Azula).

" - and he's now _fully_ aware of how well the ship is guarded. Honestly, bluster how he might, _I'm _convinced he's too smart to try to escape." She paused and smiled coyly. "Besides, I'm sure he'll have no real interest or energy to go anywhere."

It was a familiar card – Ty Lee had shown it often. The reality was, it never failed to score points.

Azula came down hard on her own temper, something she had not needed to do for quite some time. She remembered yesterday's headache and her certainty as to its cause. Now, indirectly perhaps, her Water Tribe prisoner was _again_ nudging her beyond her usual standards of acceptable behavior. Damn it, she did _not_ have to explain herself to Ty Lee, especially since the reasoning was self-evident.

There had been rumors about water-benders actually taking over the actions of others – they called it _blood-bending_. An abomination, of course. Despite the fact that Sokka was clearly not a water-bender, did he have some _nascent _blood-bending ability to draw others into his will? Azula mentally shook herself. _No_. He was no more able to bend others to his will than she was herself. Well, less so, of course! _She_ was royalty, and he was nothing!

Ty Lee's face had fallen upon Azula's pronouncement. She crumbled sulkily to a cushion beside the princess, fiddling idly with the tray of condiments that still accompanied the appearance of the teapot, despite no evidence as to the princess ever touching it.

"Okay, fine_. Let_ the guards cart him back to his cell," she sighed heavily. "He's such a stubborn wretch, anyway. I don't think _he'd_ let slip anything easily, certainly not just to get me in bed, and maybe not even afterwards. He's got a _trust_ thing, you know? I just thought _maybe_ if he were in my cabin he'd think I trusted _him_. I know, it would be tough to post more than one guard outside the door in that narrow hallway. Just because it's two floors up and, of course there are those tiny portholes in my cabin that _maybe_ he'd be able to slip through and away..." She sighed again, resting her chin heavily on her knuckles as she gazed absently across the table.

"You are _not_ fooling me, Ty Lee." Azula was annoyed. The girl was right, of course. Sokka was no more likely to manage an escape from Ty Lee's cabin than he was from his locked cell below deck, when it came right down to it. Granted, it would take more _effort _to effect his security but, she grudgingly admitted, if he did in fact invest some sense of trust in Ty Lee, whatever he spilled might well be worth it.

And Azula would _dearly love_ to see the Tribesman's face fall when whatever escape he attempted was thwarted. Oh yes, she _wanted _to be there when he was finally brought down!

"However, if he is as much under your sway as you believe, it _might_ be worth the experiment," Azula yawned ostentatiously. "Frankly, aside from your assurances as to his…kissing potential, I've seen nor heard nothing to suggest he's anywhere near as pliable to your wiles as you suggest." Azula delicately snorted. "Really, Ty Lee, he's a peasant and a foreigner. A degenerate! Do you _really_ want to sully yourself further?"

Ty Lee grinned. She raised one hand with fingers splayed to count off against:

"He's an undeniably handsome young man,"

One finger went down dramatically.

"…_at least_ as clever as most of your courtiers and probably _twice_ as passionate."

Two more fingers went down. Ty Lee's grin broadened.

"Do you _really_ think I'm wasting my time attempting to plumb those depths, peasant, degenerate or otherwise?" She cocked her head sideways at Azula as the grin continued to play innocently upon her wide-eyed countenance. Ty Le ostentatiously considered the remaining fingers aloft on her hand, and then waved them away.

"Think of it, Azula! _You_'re not 'sullying' yourself while getting most – well_, some_ – of the benefits and _none_ of the risk. He can't get away!" Ty Lee's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Cut him some slack and see if maybe something of benefit comes of it. Let him believe you think he's dumber than he really is. That _always_ works!"

Azula's lips twisted. It could as easily have been called a grimace as a smirk. This appeal had been tried, in rather different circumstances, of course, in the past. If she were to be honest with herself, it had not only worked but yielded Ty Lee's predicted benefits. After all, Ty Lee was far more clever than her appearance or mannerisms indicated. Her _weakness _for a handsome face was also an extraordinary strength – since Ty Lee held no more lasting faith in the men that admired her than her princess did.

Sad, really. It rather begged the question as to what, exactly, Ty Lee _did_ hold faith in. Except that, actually, that Azula was quite confident in the faith the acrobat rested in her. Ty Lee may not _like_ it, but she certainly understood and trusted her princess to deliver on every promise ever made.

"I think I'd rather keep him guessing as to _my_ opinion." Azula said thoughtfully. "Although you may well have a point. If he thinks he has me fooled he's more likely to make a mistake – _another_ mistake. Alright, Ty Lee. Befuddle him as you may. It can't hurt anything and you might possibly learn something from it." She grinned rather evilly. "Just to clarify his position though, let's make it obvious. I want you to put a _collar_ on him."

"What?" Ty Lee was confused.

"You heard me," Azula growled. "He's your pet now, and I want him collared like any good gecko-dog or cat-deer." _There, Sokka, perhaps you'd rather I bind you in chains to the bowsprit after all!_

_That was rather quick, although I suppose I shouldn't be surprised_. Mai returned to her cabin in time to see the guard enter Ty Lee's room, across the hallway and down a bit, with the Water Tribesman slung across his shoulder. She dallied a bit in the hallway, fumbling with the key until the guard re-emerged alone. He carefully closed the door behind him, then quickly scooted down the stairway.

By the time Mai had her own door open and had past through, she'd heard the heavy footsteps on the stairs signaling either the guard's return or someone to take his place. She wasn't surprised to see them take a stance at the head of the stairs even as she closed her own door.

Interesting.

Either Ty Lee did not care for the prisoner's accommodations, as far as her own recreation was involved, or the Tribesman had managed to talk her into a change of scene. Since she had never know Ty Lee to be particularly _persnickety_ in the past – that broom closet in their school days coming rather forcibly to mind – Mai had to assume that Sokka had pushed for this change.

Little good it would do him.

Azula may approve Ty Lee's play-time with Sokka but she would never allow him any _real _freedom from observation. She didn't blame the boy for trying, but he had to be exceedingly naïve to think any dalliance he had with the Fire Nation girl would garner him any particular freedom. And obviously, freedom was what he sought.

And not just any freedom. It must be timely, or it ran the risk of the Avatar's coming to attempt to rescue him. Well, that explained the foolishness of this particular maneuver.

The Tribesman must be getting rather desperate now.

No doubt he'd first assumed his friends would rather believe him dead than a captive of the Fire Nation. Azula was, as always, quite astute as to the feelings of others regarding their companions, although Mai was under no delusions as to whether or not Azula would exert herself on behalf of her friends if it meant undue effort of sacrifice.

And that explained his foolhardy challenging of Azula when he was finally brought before the princess. He'd wanted to remove himself from the field of contention, eliminate himself as a risk element by allowing Azula to kill him.

Very brave, if overall foolish. And it might have worked. Except that he'd understood too late the significance of artifacts that could tell their own complex stories. Mai'd rather enjoyed teaching him that lesson, especially since he'd grasped it so quickly.

Idiot boy. If his mind hadn't been addled by sex she'd no doubt he'd have figured it out sooner. But that's the male of the species for you. Wholly incapable of rational thought once their attention was caught by feminine wiles.

(And if she'd learned that lesson early enough would she have been able to practice such wiles on Zuko in time to stop him from entering the war room?) Mai ground her teeth in irritation. She _still _didn't know how to practice such wiles, so there was no point going there in her thoughts.

When she thought about it, one of the things she rather liked about the Tribesman was how he'd _accepted_ her as a warrior – he didn't expect her to act like a girl, needing to be coddled or catered to. He wasn't _flustered_ by her presence – as Ty Lee's presence obviously did – but that didn't mean he didn't _respect_ her. No, he'd expressed _admiration_ for her abilities, admiration underlined by his careful attention to her lessons on knife-throwing.

Which drew her mind naturally to the boomerang, his stolen boomerang. She would _like _to show him her progress in throwing the weapon; she was quite sure he didn't expect she'd have managed to do as well as she had in such a short time.

Of course, if she'd had proper tutelage she'd have progressed a lot further. Hell, even _one_ more lesson would send her trajectory of mastering the throw on a wholly different level.

Pity she wouldn't get another lesson. After all, if Ty Lee had him securely in her cabin, easy access to Sokka was no longer an issue.

It was a moot point, yes?

Unless, of course, she could find something to offer the Tribesman that was more compelling than Ty Lee's blandishments.

Something that would not raise the hackles of Azula's suspicion.

It was a pretty problem.

Something worth thinking about over lunch.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Mind you, another longish chapter in which NOTHING HAPPENS! Course, if you're used to reading my stuff, this should come as no particular surprise. No apologies, no regrets.

_As for Disclaimers:__ Please, no claims, profits or creative. Go bother real bad guys._

Chapter 20

Sokka inhaled deeply when the guard closed the door on Ty Lee's cabin, after being unceremoniously dumped upon the expanse of her bed.

It was rather nice to be alone again, free to breathe. Not that he could do anything else, literally, at the moment. But hey, that didn't have to diminish the pleasure of not having a shoulder digging into your gut as you attempted to do something so simple as breathe without it giving you pain one way or another. First let him take a moment to savor this, and then he could move on down his, unfortunately rather limited, agenda.

At first Sokka concentrated on noting the feeling returning to his limbs, but he had to acknowledge that it was still clear that full control of said appendages was probably perhaps as much as another hour away. Following hard upon that realization, for the admittedly rather innocent teenager, was acknowledging the reality that it was her _bed_ on which he was recovering.

Adolescence is _not_ a kind mistress.

Sokka already knew this from his unruly physical responses to young women long _before_ he'd found himself a prisoner with a gaoler of a lascivious bent of mind. Still, his previous experiences clearly had _not_ adequately prepared him for the extraordinarily blatant sexuality of the Fire Nation acrobat and her assumptions as to his acceptance of it.

On the one hand, he couldn't deny there was something very… _flattering_ in it all. This - no, she wasn't just another girl, this _woman_ clearly wanted him to satisfy her, em, sexually! For all that he was her enemy, and a foreigner, she still _wanted_ him!

On the other hand, well, there was something definitely political and manipulative about it all. Even if Ty Lee hadn't explicitly admitted as much, the reality was that he was under her mistress's eye – and yon miss had expressed a desire to peel away his skin in the interest of furthering along his interrogation.

Not exactly something easy to overlook.

Sokka was fully aware that any bedroom antics with delectable Ty Lee might as well be imagined with Azula as onlooker. Azula. The rather lovely if decidedly deadly Fire Princess with an apparent penchant for skewering her opponents verbally before barbecuing them. Oddly enough, he was having a hard time deciding if that served more to cool his ardor or spur it on. It was kinda _fun_ dodging her skewers.

Again. Adolescence is nota _kind_ mistress.

Granted, given the idiocies adolescence was prone to, a little sternness was probably a good thing. Sokka had wasted a rather appreciable amount of time and brain cells contemplating this apparent deviant streak within himself before opting to decide that, as someone on the cusp of manhood it should hardly be surprising that he found virtually everything to be sexy. It was amazing what a relief he'd experienced from such a conclusion. Rather more disconcerting was the doors it opened onto his imagination. It was almost enough to make him regret all that research he'd done, especially when it came to envisioning turning the tables on Azula and how _gratifying_ that could be and how he really, really did _not_ want to think about that!

On one hand… but on the other hand.

Then there was that damned third hand. Nope. Not that anyone normal had a third hand when it came right down to it. But Sokka distinctly remembered arguments with his sister in which she had the gall to raise that iniquitous third hand. More times than not, the third hand carried the day.

Sokka being Sokka – which meant, of course, being Katara's brother – therefore could not even attempt to avoid considering that damned third hand.

Which meant thinking about the image of Gran-Gran observing everything he did with Ty Lee – oh, thank you very much, Katara, for _that_ one!

Of course, it was the _third hand_ that objected to Ty Lee purely on the grounds of her being Fire Nation and his captor. It was the third hand that screamed against his even considering compromising his values in this way. That reminded him how his physical response to the girl had resulted in his losing relative anonymity as far as being able to prevent his friends from knowing he was captured.

Water Tribe pride snapped at him angrily at thinking any dalliance with the girl was even an option. He shouldn't have needed to evaluate it tactically since it should never have even crossed his mind! They were too damned different! Then über-rational Sokka intervened. _Ur, was that actually Water Tribe pride talking or some idealistic abstract? Had Water Tribe pride actually_ looked_ at the girl?_

And then, yes, some quiet secret voice in his reptilian brain reminded him that it was his beloved hidebound grandmother who'd traversed one global pole to the other to escape tradition's demands. Granted, she'd found succor with another Water Tribe but, that reptilian brain continued to whisper, she could just have easily gone aground somewhere in-between. Sokka's grandfather could have been of the Earth Kingdom or, _even,_ the Fire Nation! Conscious brain shuddered at reptilian brain's suggestions, but the seed was planted…

Ah, the dangers of being open-minded.

Given family history, Sokka's prescient wry smile at Sparky's obvious anger-_cum_-jealousy at the thought of Ty Lee's favoritism necessarily had a note of self-mockery and very little sting. For Sokka himself, it became a matter of accepting that perhaps his conscious brain was a bit in sympathy with the old reptile thrashing angrily at what amounted to an admission on Sparky's part as to wanting to fuck Ty Lee himself, probably _again._

Well then. No point in mining _that_ particular question any further, now was there?

_Ah yes, he could bend not only fingers now, but his wrists on both hands._ And Ty Lee had yet to show her face. Clearly, she was assuming he was useless to her until he'd regained his mobility, and he could appreciate that she had rows to hoe in explaining his presence in her cabin, as opposed to his cell. _Mmm. Glad I ain't the one negotiating those shoals. Really, is it even possible that Azu-zu will condone this? Damn, what a pervert she must be!_

Sokka thanked the spirits for Ty Lee's absence. It gave him time to think how best to respond to her return. After all, putting Ty Lee off further was no longer an option.

Well, it _could_ be actually. If he really wanted to. Sokka spared himself a blush as he admitted he was more than prepared to…er, well, "fuck her silly," if he had the opportunity. As near as he could guess, it would be his last opportunity to make the best of a damned shitty situation.

Ah, hell. Sokka may have lied to his sister and, by extension, anyone else who mattered. But he _didn't_ lie to himself. And the thought of losing his virginity to Ty Lee seemed to offer more than one stroke on the list of life achievements to look back on later. Even if _later _was measured in mere minutes.

Fuck. At least he wouldn't die a virgin. And if he managed nothing else, he was damned sure he wouldn't die alone.

* * *

It shouldn't have mattered in the least bit. After all, hadn't she acknowledged to herself that he was more of an annoyance than anything else? Turning over all aspects of his interrogation to Ty Lee – albeit through seduction – was merely a means to a cost-effective end on her part.

So why was Azula _still_ annoyed?

She liked to think it was merely a vestigial reaction against the plebeian's inevitable sexual response to Ty Lee, and her necessary involvement. How many times had she played out this game anyway?

Argh. No point in that particular train of thought. It was all too easy to slip off into the darkness of her soul and wonder which of them had gotten the better part of the deal. Ty Lee, Azula's admitted slut of a handmaiden, had the somewhat dubious pleasure of being first ear to a range of confessions, coupled with the physical releases that had inspired such. Azula was the beneficiary of such admissions, all without staining her silken skin with even a single heated bead of perspiration.

And nothing in the princess's stances of her kata, sweat-drenched and fiery-eyed, gave rise to any visions or even rumors of any hint of anything like apparent frigidity … or worse, betrayal.

_Or_ why Azula had awakened wide-eyed and determined that morning, with more in mind for the dawn than her usual singular worship.

The truth was, she had been a bit _disappointed_ when, first, Mai had come up on deck to interrupt her session with Sokka, and then Ty Lee had slid into her intermediary role. Even while he feared her, she could see in his eyes determination not to let her beat him. And while, of course, she could _not_ allow such an attitude to continue she also could not help – at least, after her second meeting with him when he _still_ proved defiant – but find such defiance rather… admirable.

What was admirable was, necessarily, attractive.

That it was also necessary to crush it did not in the least detract from its attractiveness. The longer it survived the more… intriguing – if frustrating – it became. Thus, Azula found herself dipping into her own mind's eye for specific cruelties to visit upon the Tribesman in order to distract her from her attraction to him. She smiled.

And heretofore her brother had only sufficed to receive such attention.

Would Sokka recognize _her _hand in the leather encircling that strong young throat, rubbing harshly against the smoothly-carved ivory and shell standing guard? She would like to have been able to imagine it in yet closer proximity to him, perhaps pressed against the pulse point on his throat. Yes. _That_ would have been satisfying. Did she need a reason to rob him of that symbol of barbarian rituals? Would he understand if she had it ripped from his neck now? Maybe not.

Ah but, surely he would protest her ascendancy over him even as he bowed his back over Ty Lee. In her mind's eye she imagined every thrust of his hips between her pliant friend's splayed legs as a direct challenge to her…

Azula found herself oddly breathless as she contemplated this exchange.

It was a first. She was no stranger to imagining Ty Lee's antics with her swains – hell, some portion of the fun for both of them was in the verbal sharing of the experience afterwards. And Azula had thus learned the pleasures of both anticipation and remembrance, if only vicariously. It was, after all, very necessary to ensure her reputation as princess remained intact and pure.

Or rather, that not even Ty Lee ever be given reason to suspect otherwise.

Somehow though, _this_ time was different. This time Ty Lee's boy-toy had challenged her personally, and damned if his wit and sly tongue hadn't made the challenge count for something. This time the thought of Ty Lee as surrogate for her was … pale … and somehow just a bit _inadequate_.

The tea she'd ordered a good ten minutes earlier finally appeared. Azula narrowed her eyes at the servitor, momentarily distracted by assessing the likelihood of his robes' merely smoking being sufficient to overcome him before his screams shifted from being satisfying to merely abrasive. Smoke was not as attractive as actual flame, of course. She sighed. The reality was that taking pleasure in the pain of others was no longer as satisfying as it used to be. At least, unless they _understood_ the pleasure she was taking in it….

Just how _much_ time should she allow Ty Lee with the Tribeman before summoning one or the other of them before her for a report? How long need she wait for just the right response from him over the indignity of being collared like a pet?

And was she seriously contemplating exchanging Ty Lee's leash for her own? Ty Lee would whine, of course, but it was probably time she'd drawn the line on her anyway. No, the better question was as to whether a Water Tribe peasant actually warranted so much of the Fire Princess's attention. She had come dangerously close already to crossing that line of interest.

After all, she told herself, he was merely a comical non-bender only associated with the Avatar because his much more talented sister had found him at the South Pole. That's what the reports said. He was a non-entity. Weak sentiment would cause his friends to attempt to rescue him. It had absolutely nothing to do with his intrinsic value.

Azula sipped at her tea in silent contemplation. So much of the data supported exactly that assessment of the handsome dolt she'd allowed her friend to shelter for purposes of seduction in her cabin. Yet somehow, she didn't believe it. No, not after actually meeting him without the distraction of others more _obviously_ talented. His every interaction with her since being brought aboard belied the fool, when considered with doubting eyes.

Which was, of course, the point of the collar. To let him know that she saw through him and despised him anyway. She knew it would gall him mightily. But she also suspected he would bear it if he thought he had any chance of outwitting her anyway.

Therefore, the collar was not enough.

* * *

It had taken probably more time than was warranted, but somehow Ty Lee was uncomfortable with the thought of announcing to the ship at large that Azula had ordered her to collar Sokka. As a result, she had made her way reluctantly down to the section of the ship devoted to those few craftsmen brought aboard to service the needs not easily met by either local vendors or long-term shipments from the Fire Nation. That this was a necessarily limited component of the warship had yet to take force in Azula's conceptions, and was still further removed from Ty Lee's. Mai perforce had dealt with it given her need for a ready supply of throwing knives, but _that_ was another story.

It did not occur to Ty Lee that Azula intended Sokka's collar to be a rough and ready affair. She took her lady quite literally at her word, but also considered her own intended uses.

So it was more than two hours later that she found herself smoothing her hand over the supple length of leather proffered for her approval. It was a hefty piece, measuring a full knuckle to base-joint in width, and once sufficiently snugged against Sokka's neck should prove a significant reminder of his place in the princess's household. The underside was a soft, forgiving suede that would almost caress the shell of his Tribal necklace. She had convinced the leatherworker to keep the base color a stone-grey in her own family's honor, with a simple flameworked knot both at buckle and halfway between in recognition of the First Family of Flame. She consented to inserting a metal-worked loop in the leather near the buckle, and allowed the craftsman to devise a fitting that assured that Sokka would not be able to easily slip the buckle, if Azula chose to exercise it.

As she walked back to her cabin, collar in hand, Ty Lee wondered at her own discomfort. She had worked any number of seduction schemes to Azula's advantage over the years. Quite frequently her lovers had been wholly unaware of the final ear for their pillowtime meanderings, and she had never felt the least remorse at turning over such secrets to Azula.

But Sokka was by no means so obtuse. It was clear that he fully expected her to report to Azula anything he said. So it wasn't as if she were cheating him in any way. She wasn't pretending to any innocent attraction to him. It was all open and aboveboard, and anything he said could be used against him in a court of law or in pursuit of his friends and family…

As she walked along the deck to the central tower it finally struck Ty lee as to what was bothering her about the whole affair.

Virtually every young man she had seduced she had been honestly attracted to. That they often happened to fit within Azula's plans for interrogation had been a mere lucky happenstance. They were always pretty much unaware of Azula's interest and thus Ty Lee was always secure in their interest in _her_.

Sokka was, obviously, very different.

Certainly, she had had to convince him of her very real interest in him apart from Azula's political shenanigans. But he was no idiot, and the half hour or so they had spent in each other's arms the night before had been quite compelling as far as expressing real 'interests'. Surely he felt the same! Well, his physical reactions had left no doubt as to that, but still…

She remembered his thumb along her jaw, other fingers splayed across her skull and the horribly solid wall of his cell far too close for comfort when she'd come to, frankly, attempt a seduction. There was no doubt he could have crushed her skull against the wall before she could have disabled him. They _both_ knew that.

The erotic charge of her realization of that fact _still_ sent sizzles along her bloodstream.

That he had _not_ done so clearly spoke to his ability to weigh his options. A lesser man would have jumped at the chance to take out one of the Fire Nation's best, already accepting his own death as a result. That he didn't, of course, suggested he might have been a coward. But Ty Lee didn't believe it. After all, every interaction she had had with him said that was prepared to die in his fight against the Fire Nation. So _why_ didn't he kill her when he had the chance? It would have been a great coup in th war against the Fire Nation.

But Sokka apparently had greater ambitions. It wouldn't be _enough_ to kill Ty Lee. Perhaps, even, he was _reluctant_ to do so. In any case, it was apparent he still believed he had a chance at escaping and somehow aiding his cause further by doing so. Well, if he could stop the Avatar from stepping into Azula's clutches that _would_ be significant. And his escape would almost certainly achieve that.

Damn. He _was_ a clever boy, wasn't he? Obviously at first, he'd assumed that his death would achieve that objective, and he'd sought it blatantly. When it was clear that dying at this point wouldn't matter, he'd quite objectively shifted prerogatives.

Delightfully enough, he'd recognized that her attraction to him might possibly serve that goal. Ty Lee appreciated pragmatism that worked in her favor.

And so she continued to act in ways that kept him, hopefully, off balance even as she asserted her interest in him. Ultimately, she wanted to achieve Azula's goals. But first, of course, was the satisfaction of her own desires. And there was _something _about this barbarian boy that was particularly attractive. Oh yes, it had its roots in his raw physical attractions – those lovely blue eyes, strong clean lines and that exotically dark skin, sending highlights and shadows along delineated muscles... And there was something rather _exquisite_ in the way he continued to fight against her – if she paralyzed his arms would he still find strength to deny his body's responses as she kissed her way down his torso?

And _what_ about that snow-wolf that had nipped at her nose, the aspect of his personality that she had been calling "dangerous Sokka" in her mind? How would Azula's collar affect _him_? She shuddered pleasurably in anticipation.

Once she'd realized that the collar was a mere symbol, humiliating but otherwise wholly ineffective, she found herself increasingly intrigued as to Sokka's response. Would he be so outraged as to react against her forcibly before she could respond? Should she collar him well before he recovered from her paralyzing his _chi_? Or would a more equal struggle satisfy that risk-taking element of her own personality that kept her pushing the envelope of safety? And where did Azula's approval fall?

Sokka was a fool, when it came down to it. He _could _have killed her last night, but he didn't. Instead, he'd chosen to play the odds of a better opportunity presenting itself.

Knowing he was so much of a gambler gained her an immeasurable advantage over him. Sokka was a gambler. Ty Lee, on the other hand, was _not._ In any battle between the two, the advantage lay with the one who recognized the point at which to cut their losses.

_Sokka would have said Ty Lee was also a gambler. She just wasn't prepared to admit it, so secure she was in her own certainties._

No matter how much she wanted him, Ty Lee knew that she would not be the only thing on Sokka's mind when he finally took her to bed. The male was congenitally incapable of maintaining focus on a single effort, just as he was equally incapable of divorcing his feelings from any such bedding as to the reality of his position as a prisoner, or her role therein.

Nonetheless, Ty Lee couldn't help wondering if she'd made the right decision in bringing Sokka to her bed, rather than pursuing him on the hard bench that comprised his own bed.

Was it really rational to believe that helpless Sokka, disabled by her assaults to his chakra points, in her cabin, was somehow more at a disadvantage than the surly young man in his cell? Of _course_ he would howl at her asserting ownership of him; men had howled before at her dominance. What difference would it make with Sokka?

Ty Lee had no real answers for these questions, but she seriously expected that such a lack would prove important to not only her, but even to Azula in the long run. As she turned the key in the lock on her door, Ty Lee schooled her face into its habitual vacuous grin as she considered the young man sprawled across her bed.

After all, while the reality of personal curses was a not-to-be-ignored possibility, every foreseeable future for the local princess boded well.

* * *

Mai rested her arms along the stern railing in a deliberately contemplative pose. She honestly didn't care what political or even recreational escapades her schoolmates indulged in. Her own allegiance was clear.

She closed her eyes and the soft innocence of echoing amber orbs brushed askance against her consciousness. She forced her eyes open to ignore the differences in the innocence of the eyes that confronted her as to her own. Spirits knew, she had trusted to innocent eyes before. And shouldn't anyone be expected to trust the innocence of the eyes of a prince?

But Mai knew better. The sweet innocence of a prince was useless unless it was bound within the restrictions of reality. It was only in fairy tales that a girl would find herself a princess because of a prince's attentions. Mai was no princess. And she didn't live in a fairly tale.

Shit. While she was not princess she was still pretty damned high when it came to Fire Nation aristocracy available to the prince of the Fire Nation.

Hell, Ty Lee couldn't make a claim to Zuko – there was that whole Air Nomad shadow to be dispelled from her heritage. And they all knew it couldn't be. Ty Lee's family status rested entirely upon the betrayal of the Air Nomads by one of their own.

Of course, the idiot girl had never showed any preference for Zuko anyway. Well, unless you speculate upon some interest to compare the Fire Nation's best with that of the rest of the world!

Mai sighed. Zuko had been a handsome, good-hearted boy, from all reports quite intelligent and reasonably talented as a fire-bender, before that fatal day in the war room. No one ever said he'd compared with his sister though. But then, in their world no one had actually expected him to. Which is why she'd never quite given credence to Azula's disdain of her elder brother.

Well, that was then and this was now.

Innocent eyes, be they amber or cerulean blue, held no value in the struggle to stay alive and on top of the game. Mai allowed herself to think wistfully of times past, enjoying the pleasant warmth curling in her belly as her mind's eye obligingly added years to the prince's visage and bulk and sinew to his frame. She pictured Zuko with more mass than the Water Tribe boy evinced, despite their apparent similarity in age, probably because of the inherent power his family had always displayed, and the muscularity she had always associated with it.

With a sudden jolt of perspective, Mai found herself casting upon the dusky planes of a stubborn jawline memories of an equally determined frown cast in much paler tones. Long-lined limbs fleshed out in disciplined ridges – perhaps garnered from stolen glances at training rounds at the various sites of her father's political appointments, or even her own imagination – and a grace she knew was stolen from watching Azula.

It was, actually, with some relief that she recognized this unusual interest in Sokka was more than his expertise with the boomerang. That his strength of will reminded her of Zuko was reassuring – it meant that the boy himself had no real attraction for her that she needed to worry about. He was merely about Zuko's age and, as Zuko was, unusually attractive and brave.

That was, of course, all there was to it.

A/N: It amuses me to no end that this fic – which started as a lark but took on a life of its own and therefore I claim little in the way of responsibility for – has attained such a following: nearly every chapter has 1,000 hits! Hell, not bad for a story focusing on purely secondary characters, don't you think? (And right up there with my Sokka/Zuko stories, to which I'd attributed pure Zuko fandom) So Sokka's a bit more of a magnet than I had imagined, I guess.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: Oh yea! Despite months of inactivity and angst about reviews I'm back to a zen moment of letting this story run its own course. Oh. Sorry to all of you looking for the upturn in action I'd been promising. Guess I'm unreliable after all…_

_Disclaimer: Speaking of unreliable – no expectations, no revenues, no injuries and no standing for a suit. And the Constitution's justiciability principles gets a win! (sorry, an "in-joke")_

Chapter 21

Azula took an assertive stand at the stern of her battleship. She knew Mai had preceded her, but she refused to give the other girl her attention, forcing Mai as a matter of etiquette to seek out the princess.

It wasn't an expression of cruelty on her part; merely one of reminding her where privileges already were defined. After all, Azula was the princess to whom Mai owed allegiance. It would have been _unseemly_ for Azula to seek Mai's attention from others when she needed _her_. Mai would have been appalled to have Azula investigate her whereabouts – sheer luck had found the girl at New Ozai when Azula wanted her presence. Mai swiftly remembered the most important lesson of their school years.

_Be there when I seek you – do NOT make me send for you…_

Of course, Ty Lee almost had not recognized the fortuitousness of the imperial presence in the same location as her traveling circus. Luckily, it had taken nothing more than the loss of her props (and where they stood in securing the safety of others) to remind her as to destiny's hand in bringing the royal family into proximity with those who might aid them.

Where the royal family chose to attribute luck was not for any servitor to question. (Least of all, a grey-eyed girl with far too close ties to the defunct airbenders, no matter how many generations back such ties went).

As Mai ambled along the sternline towards Azula, the princess found herself questioning her school friend's devotion for, perhaps, the first time since she had forced the dividing line between her cause and Zuko's.

It wasn't that she had any actual reason. Her last subtle questioning had made it clear that for all Mai's still vibrant idealization of Prince Zuko — and any perhaps rather romantic shading of it inherent in his banishment – the noblewoman was still fully aligned to Azula. The connection between their prisoner and Zuko was extremely attenuated – _he_ was no more than the companion of the prince's prey.

Even Azula could not imagine the convolutions such a conspiracy would take against her. Which isn't to say she hadn't tried to imagine such – she just couldn't make it either believable or remotely rational. Nor, for that matter, could she draw sufficient connections anywhere except, perhaps, between Mai and Zuko, to link any but her wildest imaginings together (then again, the whole carnal attraction of Ty Lee to the Water Tribesman had appeared to spring up out of nowhere). After all, damn it, last she'd heard, the young man was waiting for Ty Lee in her bed, after all.

With all Azula's guards fore, aft, amidships and anything in-between, there was something distinctly creepy and bizarrely comforting in realizing – as each later did – that Sokka and Mai had reasoned upon frighteningly similar lines to reach virtually the same conclusions.

* * *

When Sokka thought about it, it was obvious that Ty Lee probably had learned to time her impact on her victims' nerves or chakra pretty finely over the years, and he was an idiot to assume that he might have gained any kind of advantage over her in having been paralyzed so damned often over such a short time period. Still, the reality was that he _could_ move – not much maybe, but he could _move _– perhaps in less than half the time it had taken to recover from her first attack. He had to believe there was _something_ of value there.

Oddly enough, his captors showed no interest in this particular aspect of his captivity. He liked to think; _more fools they_.

Given the rather narrow time-frame he had to effect an escape before, at the outside, he could expect his friends to attempt a rescue, it seemed that even the most confirmed pessimist must recognize any advantage he could.

Well, Sokka had always taken the high (low?) road of pessimism routinely whenever the going had gotten rough. This hadn't changed with his and Katara's association with the Avatar. By definition, any advantage he'd gained in recovery time over Ty Lee's paralysis jabs was banked on a purely contingent basis. Something to be exploited, one-time only. Any actual planning must assume normal parameters as laid out and understood by both parties. Unless, of course, there was something one party didn't actually know about. Possibly, Sokka's advanced recovery time might fit into such.

He rather assumed it would never be an issue. After all, if he'd read Ty Lee correctly, she had no plans of exercising any more paralysis moves for the duration of her interest. She wanted him _responsive_, and her nasty _chi_ moves defeated that purpose.

While it probably was fully predictable, he could see no real way around it. Still, he planned to keep the potentially foreshortened recovery time in his pocket as long as possible. Which meant he really couldn't even _attempt _to move until quite some time after she returned.

At the thought, a bit of bile rose in his stomach as he lay there. Having already noted the unwonted size of the girl's bed and its implications, he castigated himself for a childish burst of prudish morality.

Not that he hadn't already played fast and loose as to Tribal morality, having run his hands all over the girl's sultry form without any formal agreements regarding intended relationships. Granted, he'd attempted to fool himself with the fiction that he was merely positioning himself for a strike against her – ah, yes. Well, actually, he'd done _that_ as well. A rather remarkably cold aspect of Sokka's brain proceeded to catalogue the elements of Ty Le's vulnerability his by now sufficient number of meetings with the girl had finally started to enumerate, happily assessing very rough estimates as to their reliability against what Ty Lee already knew about him

Silly girl. Surely she was smart enough to have realized just how much peril she'd been in the night before in his arms, with the ever-so-solid wall and its supporting beams that he'd determined during the course of his imprisonment were remarkably sound-absorbent…

Another sop to his conscience, perhaps.

But nothing and everything had argued towards the least auspicious interpretation of events. Only an idiot would believe an assassin of Ty Lee's caliber – oh yes, he'd figured out the girl's role in her ladyship's favor early on – would be ignorant of the vulnerability of her position.

So either she thought he was a total dolt or she was amazingly confident as to her ability to shut him down. Given their earlier history and a nod to her apparent flightiness, Sokka was willing to err on the side of Ty Lee's confidence.

Which was yet another point that _might_ work in his favor. Such confidence might bleed into her assurance as to her ability to win over lovers. It was already quite evident that Ty Lee had every intention as to making Sokka one of said ranks.

The subject of this attention sighed heavily, glad enough that he held the cabin to himself for a while yet. He had yet to figure out if there was anything but immediate gratification to be gained in such an assignation. While he'd decided – fairly easily, in fact – that he had no problem seducing an enemy in order to gain an advantage (somehow, phrasing it that way made it seem less personal, less intimate, and less of a moral outrage), he was less confident in such an encounter where no clear advantage was to be gained beyond that of lying to the enemy on an intimate level. There was something unforgiveably sordid in deception merely for its own sake. In desperation, he turned the thought on its head to see if it might yield some new insight.

What advantage could Ty Lee – and through her Azula – gain in transforming Sokka into Ty Lee's lover? Well, if he were stupid, for the sake of wetting his wick he might spout all he knew of not only Aang but the Earth Kingdom defenses.

But he was far from stupid. Azula herself considered him the quintessence of betrayal to the Fire Nation ideal. Obviously, they would _not _count on any dangerous statements among his pillow-talk.

So could anyone actually hope for more from a liaison between Ty Lee and himself than some form of physical gratification?

The more he turned it over in his mind, the greater the sinking feeling in Sokka's gut grew. Ty Lee might expect nothing more of him – and Sokka had begun to finally trust in the fact that the girl would have been happy if he were a mute beast on which she could play – but Azula never would.

* * *

Ty Lee was elated, and determined to celebrate her victory in her favorite place – sans her own boudoir. The galley.

She was not disappointed. The kitchen boy was delightfully stripped to the waist as he manned the ovens. While several years her junior, he was still nicely filled out – funny how hefting coals to feed the ovens, slinging about birds and beasts on roasting spits, and the rest of the minutia of kitchen duties she couldn't imagine, could go towards shaping a slim torso and lean musculature into something else delectable to … taste.

Generally, Ty Lee had enjoyed free range in imposing her personal tastes on most aspects of their journey. Azula, apparently, had little care for such aspects of taste and culture, as long as Ty Lee didn't stray too far from Fire Nation norms.

Mai had refrained entirely from expressing _any _care. Beyond, of course, an insistence on the availability of fire-flakes upon request, day or night. Oh. And that rug that cushioned the solemn girl's feet upon entrance into her cabin.

"Was he a good fuck?" Her customary bowl of fire-flakes in hand, Mai leaned negligently against the wall leading to the galley proper from the mess hall.

Ty Lee briefly considered. Never had Mai bothered to comment on her lovers without intent to make her look bad. She looked around. Aside from the girl assigned to keeping the stewpot filled they were ostensibly alone. It was, also, remarkably early in the day for Mai to be making such assumptions.

"Hmmm. It would be a first for _you_ to wonder," Ty Lee found her own place against the wall, eyeing the fire-flakes in terms of their ability to enable Mai to outlast her in this particular duel.

"That bad, eh. So. You keeping him in your cabin for pride's sake?" Mai smiled a smile so facilely false as to make Ty Lee wish to cringe for the sake of obviousness. But that, also, would have been a cue to her "friend".

"Really, Mai, you should know me better than that." Ty Lee managed to croon, happy to catch out of the corner of her eye her sweet kitchen boy laying out a tray of sweetened rice-balls not long after observing her appearance in the galley.

"Ah, wishful thinking on your part, I suppose… Well, I guess there's always _still_ a chance." Without a backwards glance Mai sashayed out of the galley, fire-flakes bowl easily crooked under one elbow. On the lintel she paused momentarily, looking back at Ty Lee. "Pity really. I rather like the boy's balls. Oh, I _don't_ mean the way you do, of course." She smiled that patented meaningless smile that hinted legions with zero promise. "Well, disappointment is an exercise in strength, is it not?"

Ty Lee mentally swore in a manner that would have raised serious questions among even the most robust of her followers. As if it wasn't enough to have Azula on her ass as to assessing the value of her sexy Water Tribe youth and his knowledge. No, she had to have her dear compatriot bringing her razor-barbed wit to the question of his continued value in staying alive. _Thank you very much, Mai._

Ty Lee had always relied upon her friends to drop her hints and, of course, more thereon, as to events that might influence her dearest friend and mentor Azula. She'd been careful to have at _least_ as free a hand in rewarding those who betrayed the Princess' trust as those who told her stories otherwise. After all, who really cared if things were going right, as long as 'right' meant good for themselves?

The kitchen boy had forwarded on to her the commentary of the guard Sokka had christened "Sparky" as to the Tribesman's likely ability to give her pleasure. After all, earlier on Ty Lee's humor had been caught by the Tribesman's nickname, and she'd passed it on to the kitchen boy; soon the guardsman's actual name had been lost in the general ribaldry. That Sparky's comments had been acerbic and full of hyperbolic promises as to upholding Ty Lee's honor probably encouraged such flightiness. Ty Lee, after all, felt honor-bound to defend her _current _lover before the slings and arrows of a _former_ amour, while the kitchen boy simply appreciated the denigration of a bender by another non-bender, even if he was a rival for Ty Lee's affections.

It did not occur to Ty Lee to attach much to Mai's comments as they pertained to Sokka himself, instead assuming they were all merely jibes against herself. After all, she had already ascertained Mai's continued devotion to the Fire Prince, and Azula herself had evinced sufficient attention to her Water Tribe prize to explain any unusual attention Mai might have given their prisoner. And hadn't she seen for herself the cruel pleasure, disdain and impatience Mai had demonstrated upon the recovery of his shirt just the day before?

Still, Mai _was_ more on edge than usual. Probably more frustrated, and the prospect of Ty Lee's indulgence all the more galling. That was itself enough of an explanation for Mai's unwonted harshness. As she walked to her cabin Ty Lee's hand found its way to her pocket, smoothing against the expanse of leather bulging against the fabric.

Well, she still hadn't come across a way she _wanted _to present this necessity to Sokka. But at least the altercation with Mai had given her a respite from thinking about the upcoming confrontation.

* * *

An element of Sokka's brain wanted to scream and slice the balls off of every man who approached him. Granted, the first response was rather girly but its follow-up seemed sufficiently severe given the magnitude of being collared! Like a fuckin' pet!

At first it had all been so damned pleasant that he'd fully enjoyed pretending to be powerless. Although, of course, an element of his pride had squealed against even this pleasure, Sokka took a moment to bless whatever spirits sanctioned those who lie in wait as he continued to lie motionless upon Ty Lee's bed as she cooed above him, arranging pillows and whatnot. She stroked warm fingers across his cheekbones as she babbled some nonsense regarding unsubstantiated Water-Tribe attacks on the Fire Nation capital – they both knew the falsity of any such reports, allowing her fingers to trail down his neck and down his sternum.

She kept her other hand buried deep in her pocket, and despite that trailing hand dealing invisible fire to his torso, he steeled his will against his body anticipating attack from that hidden hand, and found himself taking note of an odd hesitancy in both her gaze and that oddly trembling arm in her pocket.

He allowed his mouth to crook in that lopsided smile that Ty Lee seemed to admire so much, half-wishing he dared reach up to trail a finger along her own lips, wistfully twisted into an unreadable expression. He was relatively sure he had regained sufficient control to do so, although his basic plan precluded revealing such ability yet.

Mere seconds later that other hand had eased out of her pocket, trailing the expanse of leather behind it. She'd bent her head down, slanting it a bit to cover his lips with hers as she'd deftly reached around his neck to draw the length of leather behind his head. As she continued to ply his lips to distraction she'd drawn the end of the collar through the confining hasp on the other end, securing it awkwardly as his head and chest had suddenly surged up against her lips, finally recognizing something unexpected in her movements.

"What the fuck..!" His hands had clenched in desperation, rising slightly above the bedcovers – rather more above them than she had been expecting, actually, before his head fell back again against the pillow, shock writ large across his features.

His harsh words were an opening spigot for Ty Lee, her eyes suddenly flooded by an overwhelming gush of tears, the cloud of which Sokka barely had time to register before her face suddenly rushed down again to meet his, dipping at the last moment to tuck her forehead beneath his chin as she sobbed against his chest and her arms wound their way around him to clench against his shoulderblades as she heaved wordlessly against him.

Furious at the unaccustomed constraint against his throat, constricting his tribal necklace between his neck and the confines of the wide strip of leather that howled against all of his instincts, Sokka dug short fingernails into the calloused flesh of his palms as he forced his arms to lie flat against the bed, determined to maintain the fiction of his helplessness.

Was it a minute or even five minutes later that Ty Lee raised herself? She brushed one finger across his lips and smiled crookedly, as if in apology, as she brought a final object out of her pocket – a finely-wrought metal fixture that neither mistook for other than a lock, which she affixed to the hasp on one end of the collar and the loop at the other end.

Ty Lee was caught by the changing hues in the Tribesman's eyes as she stumbled through these movements. The cobalt that had caught her gaze on their first meeting shifted through a myriad of colors, including oddly marine hues impossible to discern in any reflection of the room around him, before settling in a steely blue bereft of warmth or shine.

She knew she had attained a certain relationship with the Tribesman the night before, a warmth of understanding between two creatures caught on opposite sides of a fence that neither one had raised. Ty Lee had always suspected in her gut that the problems in the world were a result of the boundaries people drew to separate them. Although simplistic, it was a remarkably apt assessment of the world at large.

Alas, the collar she placed upon Sokka did nothing to defuse the boundaries he had felt the Fire Nation had drawn against his people.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: I thought this story wouldn't amount to more than a couple chapters showing what idiocy the capture fic featuring Sokka is. Oops. Kinda made that genre a bit fun, now didn't I?_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing and have no profit expectations. Civil suit is pointless._

Chapter 22

Sokka marveled a bit at his own self-control – although he was reasonably sure that sheer shock probably had more to do with it than anything else as to what prevented him from acting upon the fury that coursed through his veins once he'd realized the nature of Ty Lee's actions. It certainly wasn't Ty Lee herself - he knew _that i_nstinctively. Just as he also instinctively knew that this was Azula's act, with Ty Lee merely the acquiescent agent. Had he any doubt, Ty Lee's tears would have proved more than adequate confirmation.

What an amazing bitch the fire princess was! It wasn't enough to rob him of his freedom, followed shortly by emasculating him as well – that had been effectuated with Ty Lee's blatant control of what he still believed was the reverse of a proper seduction – no, Azula went further to deny him his basic _humanity_. The collar said he was not merely a prisoner; he was a pet!

And she really, really _wanted_ him to know it.

Sokka became vaguely aware that the dampness of his palms was not so much a sign of sweat as the blood drawn by his own nails in his desperate attempt to keep his arms slack upon the coverlet, just as he decided he didn't really give a damn if his blood stained said bedclothes. He was fairly sure that Ty Lee would hardly question that level of muscle control, given the provocation, if she even noticed. At least, he was _relatively _sure given the level of her tears even as she recognized the shock radiating from every fiber of his being as she slipped the end of the collar through the keeper after the buckle's tongue shot home and he'd realized the enormity of her act.

By keeping his focus on peripheral issues – such as the slight tremble of her fingers as they worked the collar's fixtures; the shimmer in her eyes as tears gathered, real or otherwise; and the absurd collapse across his supposedly helpless body that positioned her limbs rather more than suggestively across his own lower extremities — Sokka managed to avoid what he was sure would have been a failed attempt at murdering Ty Lee. Again, he wondered at his own ability to suppress such instinctive reactions in favor of predetermined planning.

As a side thread of thought, he found himself a bit curious as to the end result of his mental explorations regarding the issue of self-control. Hadn't he managed to embarrass himself often enough _before _in speaking or acting on his own confident assessment of a situation? According to Katara and Toph – Aang kept silence in recognition of male solidarity in such concerns – even his experiences at the North Pole hadn't seen fit to quell his determination to "take charge" purely on the authority of age and gender.

Well, it seemed that his instinct also still knew well enough when to duck and take cover. Damn it, either he was a coward after all or he was actually getting better at forcing himself to _think_ before he acted. Since he had been quite determined beforehand to hide his recovered basic bodily control in the face of whatever happened next – although getting collared had not entered into his calculations at all – he rather hoped that it was _intellect_ rather than cowardice that ruled him now. He hated to think that it might be otherwise.

It _was_ odd how the fury within him burned itself out so quickly, to be replaced by yet another layer of icy hate against the Fire Nation. Oh, it still smoldered a bit, and Sokka gathered a hint of the heat that fueled so many fire-benders even as his soul eased its transference into yet another crust upon the shell of resentment built up over the years.

Well, if it kept him alive to take charge later, to greater purpose…

So was it fear of yet another embarrassment of failure that kept him from fighting this ultimate humiliation? Sokka reconsidered his own healthy flight response and, given the realities of life at the South Pole wholly unmitigated by his experiences thereafter, he remained convinced that in _most_ cases running away was the smart thing to do. Aside from the fact that, in this case, the option of running was actually quite lacking, of course, this seemed to be the perfect case in point. Even if he could overcome Ty Lee, his hope of escape was slim.

Almost certainly Azula would have increased the guard outside her door, anticipating some such hope on his part. With flight impossible what option was left - ?

As he awkwardly pressed his cheek against Ty Lee's in some odd act of comfort –_qua-_forgiveness, Sokka shifted his head enough to see confirmation of his guess in two helmets in view beyond the door Ty Lee had left ajar. The cynical aspect of his brain assumed the girl had left the door ajar deliberately for him to see as much, content to let him take his choice in believing her innocent or complicit in the additional security.

Following that train of thought, he found himself of two minds as to Ty Lee's guilt regarding the entire situation. Sokka had absolved her of any deep guilt once he'd ascertained for himself her very real interest in him physically the night before. There was something very disarming in a high-born Fire Nation girl's pursuit of a Water Tribe peasant, even as the thought set off all kinds of alarms regarding its suspiciousness. The balance had been tipped, of course, with her willingness to put herself in real harm's way. And Sokka never suspected Ty Lee of being foolish enough to be unaware of her peril the night before.

"Well, Brat, it _could_ have been fun. Getting along, I mean. Pity Fire Nation has such a poor understanding of common language as to not understand that it's a two-way street," He was fishing a bit, here, for information, as well as digging in whatever knife he might have at his disposal for Ty Lee's act against him.

She was snuggling rather more intimately against him as he spoke, and for a breath she froze in position. Clearly, she had taken the brief caress of his cheek against hers at face value, optimistic as to any repercussions Azula's insistence on collaring Sokka would have on the relationship between them. Even as she resumed positioning her body more comfortably against his prone form, he knew she was reevaluating that optimism.

By speaking, Sokka accepted his own conclusions regarding this changed situation, one part of his mind keeping time even as he focused on maintaining his limbs in a slack position. His focus shifted fully back onto the Fire Nation girl in whose room and bed he found himself. A bed, he reminded himself, that was ultimately owned by Princess Azula.

Even as her tears rained down upon him Ty Lee was fully conscious of the tenseness of the male form beneath her. She had been surprised at his ability to lift his body from the bed at all, let alone with any kind of force. And yet, shortly after her fingers had managed to complete the circle around his neck, sliding one end of the collar through the metal keeper and then catching a tooth of the buckle through the ready-made hole, he had managed to lift his torso full off the bed, although his arms remained slack against his sides. A growl of frustration had filled the room even as the handsome face had contorted itself fiercely through a range of expressions she hadn't had time to register – beyond the coldness that had closed down again over his face as his torso fell back against the pillows.

Betrayal was not a word that had often found its way into Ty Lee's lexicon, oddly enough. Even so, for the first time in her life she felt like perhaps she understood just what it meant to be on the receiving end. Funny that. For all their games, she'd never felt any similar sense regarding Mai…

Ah, but! Mai's eyes had _never _held so much indignation or disappointment! Yet, _that_ was what she had read in the shifting hues of the Tribesman's eyes when she finally dared to meet them again. Where her childhood friend's eyes seemed incapable of registering any emotion in their obsidian depths, the Tribesman's fury and disappointment formed a veritable kaleidoscope, particularly in his eyes and easily read, despite their alien color. And surely those emotions were aimed at her. Well, why not? She deserved them. After all, she'd never claimed to want more than physical gratification from him, and she'd definitely offered to make his life as a prisoner _easier _in return. But she'd never suggested that in addition she would require such ultimate submission from him. Of _course_ he would feel she'd cheated on their deal.

This was a schock to her. While Ty Lee may have spilled her lovers' secrets to Azula, she'd never actually _deliberately _compromised any of her lovers' positions. Generally, it was a social _boost_ to a man to have been in her favor, and both of them knew it. As far as she knew, none of them had actually suffered as a result of her attentions.

But the reality was that Sokka had not been far out when he suggested that Ty Lee had no idea what she was doing as a gaoler. It was one thing to peruse the files of a prison and seduce a likely captive, and altogether something else to be responsible for the status and well-being of a valuable political prisoner. It wasn't until Azula insisted on twisting the bonds surrounding Sokka with the prospect of additional humiliation that Ty Lee began to understand that there were _levels _to imprisonment. Levels that went beyond mere restraint of limbs.

And, somehow, despite the lack of restraint upon the limbs that a mere band of leather around the neck proffered, the _existence_ of such a bond was sufficient upon itself as to offer insult almost – if not equal – to bonds upon the limbs themselves.

Well, duh! Ty Lee wasn't stupid and she knew perfectly well that to place a collar on someone, to suggest by such means that they were not even human but a mere pet, was enormously insulting. And the very act of placing such an instrument upon someone's neck suggested the power to enforce its meaning.

Ty Lee had cringed even as she affixed the lock on the hasp and buckle that secured Sokka's collar. If _she_ knew what was going on she knew that Sokka was also aware of it, not just on her level but probably on a scale somehow comparable with Azula herself.

"You're going to take this out on me? _Surely_ you know I didn't want things to go this way," silently she intoned, _It's not my fault… and if you loved me… _For all her many escapades, Ty Lee had never considered the distinctions between the words 'love' and 'want', assuming the latter to be merely a degree of the former.

Sokka's own education had been far more exacting. So he was wholly unaware of her silent plea.

"Don't be a fool, Brat," The kaleidoscope was gone, leaving behind the steely blue that matched his voice. "You expect _honor_ in a deal from a caged animal? Better consult your _princess _or throw me back below decks."

Ty Lee considered how many times she could paralyze Sokka's chi before it might kill him altogether, and whether she would feel better if she actually killed him or had to live with the condemnation that was so clearly evident in those blue eyes. And why did it matter in this case, when it never had before?

* * *

He shrugged when pressed in the galley; hell, anyone stationed on the foredeck had seen him heave the Tribesman over his shoulder and, following the Lady Ty Lee, haul him into the tower instead of down below deck back into the cells. He didn't want to talk about it and, after all, Ty Lee hadn't given him leave to unbutton his lip indiscriminately anyways.

Oh, he heard the kitchen boy refer to him as "Sparky", and he was quite aware that the Water Tribe prisoner had referred to him the same way. Given Sokka's limited contact with the crew it seemed evident that the guards themselves had talked too much – as he himself must have during off hours. The Tribesman had a funny way about him – his dislike of the Fire Nation was clear and yet he was incorrigibly social, willing to even make jokes about himself for some acknowledgment from those around him. It hadn't taken much questioning to learn that Sokka had something of a flare for bestowing catchy nicknames – "Grumpy", "Slick", and, oddly, "So fine" had caught on with Sokka's guards – an almost unconscious acceptance of his assessment of obvious characteristics. It took a little digging to learn that some of his other soubriquets had also caught hold: "Ass Wipe" and "Snotty" were far too descriptive and far too obvious to argue about – and "Sewer-Dog" had become common references to the remaining unranked soldiers that served, as guards and otherwise, since Sokka had been brought aboard.

It wasn't in the purview of ranked soldiers to mix with the unranked, let alone officers with enlisted. Generally, it was conceded that unranked soldiers were the dregs of society. Since most of the ranked men were fire-benders, "Sparky" had seen no particular reason to take offense, although he did wonder if Sokka perhaps called all fire-benders "Sparky". Again, simple questioning had yielded that where guards did not offer names Sokka presented his own, some clever, some stupid; "Flash" for a particularly quick-on-the-draw guard and "Deckman" for an overweight guard prone to flatulence. The former, he thought, was obvious, and the latter was generous. Since he had no real objections to his own nickname, "Sparky" had a hard time articulating a real objection to the man himself.

Another sop to his conscience, perhaps.

But nothing and everything had argued towards the latest turn of events. Only an idiot would believe that an assassin of Ty Lee's caliber – sure, he'd _sussed _out the girl's role in her ladyship's favor early on – would be ignorant of the vulnerability of her position.

So she was confident enough as to her own abilities to deal with the Tribesman either as idiot or spy. If he were honest with himself he would have to admit it wasn't fear for Ty Lee that bothered him as to her interest in Sokka but simple jealousy. The tribesman was young, handsome and presumably virile. He was also obviously _not_ as enamored of the young noblewoman as virtually all of the men-at-arms on board were.

Sparky sighed heavily as he methodically consumed his dinner. He was fully aware that Lady Ty Lee's tastes were far-ranging, and he was in no position to complain. Still, if Princess Azula saw fit to fry the Tribesman upon their next meeting, he would be happy to shovel the remaining char overboard.

* * *

When she thought about it she had to admit there was a certain exultation warming her heart from the moment her guards had brought word that Ty Lee had in fact dealt Sokka what should have been a breaking blow of humiliation in collaring him. Granted, the fact that Ty Lee had seen fit to issue a flood of tears across his bosom as she did so, detracted a bit from the triumph of the act itself. But, when she thought about it, maybe it was even better that Sokka _had _to know the order came from herself, and wasn't some idiotic kinky sexual move on Ty Lee's part.

Yes. It was _much_ better for him to know just how much Ty Lee was a creature of her bidding, and how little she would prove as a bulwark between them in his favor. Gloves _off_ between them – if any such device had ever existed anyway – was _so_ much better.

As she thought about it, Azula wondered again if she had been wise in allowing Ty Lee to play any role in this game at all. Ah but, surely she would prove at least valuable as a _distraction_, dividing his attention between what was truly important and useless pleasure politics. Her brother might have objected to this as unworthy, but Azula knew better. Their father had taught her the lesson of looking for weaknesses wherever you may find them, and exploiting them.

Still. It _would_ have been nice to force Sokka to submit to her on the basis of her own strength alone. To make him worship her and appreciate her for how much she rose above everyone else, including girls such as Ty Lee. After all, did he _really_ think anyone but her could appreciate his wordplay on either his first or second interrogations?

Of course not. And it was something he _should_ be forced to admit. In fact, she would _not_ allow him to die until he _did_ fully appreciate her. When the time came, he would count it as a blessing.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

(updated 7/26/09)

_A/N: Ick. No excuses offered for this puppy living beyond the series' life. Shit happens, as they say. I'm guessing, if you like this, this you'll let me know._

_Speaking of the series, I am frankly surprised that it is still spawning fanfic, actually. I think Nic squandered its fan-base capital with the odd timing of releases during season 3, as well as the complete absence of the show now: how are they going to promote the live-action movie, anyway?_

_Disclaimer reminder: I own nothing and have no profit expectations. Civil suit is pointless._

Chapter 24

Sokka was just as glad to have Ty Lee worming her snub of a nose beneath the notched placket in the neckline of his Fire Nation tunic, although the warmth of that wandering nose and yet warmer hands as they slid up beneath the hemline of said tunic were damned hard to ignore. Still, she wasn't actually expecting anything from him at the moment beyond complaisance and, for the moment, it was a cheap price to pay while he used the time thus purchased to _think_!

The stupid collar was all about Azula trying to humiliate him, to grind his nose into the reality that he lived or died by her direction, and that for now it amused her to let him live, at Ty Lee's beck and call, apparently. Galling as it may be, did it actually pose any particular problem to his half-formed plan to use Ty Lee's apparent infatuation with him against the Fire Nation? That is, to convince her to allow him into a position from which he could escape off this damned ship?

Water Tribe pride howled like a sea-wolf, but Sokka saw in his mind's eye his father's lopsided grin as he explained how even the sea-wolf was capable of cunning, of hiding in the shadows carefully downwind, his blue-grey coloring so like the ice-on-rock of the canyons… and the wolf's patience as it waited for its prey. Of course, he had to remind himself, I probably should be thinking of how the _prey_ avoids the predator, and not worry about my damned pride…

* * *

"What? That stupid—" Mai swallowed hard upon the word she'd almost chosen to visit upon the personage that made her family's fortunes exceed the diplomatic average. Learning that Azula had ordered Sokka collared like an animal or a slave was, she thought, perhaps the final straw. Damn it, what had happened to the incisive intellect of her childhood friend? When had her political acumen devolved into the common frenzy for mere power? And how much longer should she continue to moor her family fortunes to what had begun to appear an increasingly unstable regime?

Mai carefully drew a few breaths, allowing the gossiping servant to exit her cabin unhindered. She would probably have to seek that servant out soon to ensure no untoward rumors spread from her unguarded words – a lazily offered threat should be enough to close her mouth – after all, Azula wasn't the only one with a reputation in the Fire nation.

Mai relaxed a bit. So that itch along her spine probably had as much to do with an astute assessment as to the current reigning family's vulnerability to a coup as to any interest in the Water Tribesman beyond his expertise with his intriguing weapon. That, combined with her earlier decision that she was practicing some kind of emotional displacement of her long-time crush on Prince Zuko, eased her mind considerably. It wasn't like she actually identified in any way with this non-bender warrior with the all-too-knowing eyes. Zuko's eyes had been guileless, hadn't they, whereas Sokka's were cynical and, if anything, mocking. Oops. Not so helpful to her rationalizations…

* * *

Ty Lee's hands had ghosted their way over her Tribesman's form teasingly as she snuggled herself against him, cautiously waiting for his protest. Reassured, she returned to grasp the tunic's hem and pull it across the slack form on the bed up towards his head, dragging the limp arms with it. A part of her enjoyed tremendously his inability to protest or take control of the process. But another part of her couldn't help hearkening back to that fierce, almost primeval kiss.

She was reasonably sure that at the crucial point in this seduction he would regain sufficient control of his faculties as to transform this from a mere exercise in tactile stimulation to a true sexual encounter, mutually satisfying. She had every faith in her own abilities to inspire the requisite level of arousal – last night's firmness beneath her thighs was evidence enough of that!

But there was something disconcerting in the passivity of her target's _facial expression_, despite the taut musculature, peaked nipples, and increased heart rate. She closed her eyes to it, focusing instead on all the other signs – the physical signs, in particular – that he had show his interest in her. Ty Lee rested easy, although at the back of her mind a tiny voice questioned Sokka's current general limpness against that upsurge of his torso during the collaring – something was a bit _off_ about that, wasn't it?

* * *

Azula was honestly surprised as to how much of her attention was held by the Water Tribesman. After all, she had ostensibly given Ty Lee full rein over his treatment, once he was collared and, presumably cowed. She knew she thrilled at the evidence of his outrage, that she was exhilarated anticipating tomorrow's encounters with him, the trading of quips and barbs as they each skewered the other on some finer point of strategy or even law…

Damn it. It wouldn't do to have such an encounter observed, not even by Ty Lee or Mai! As for guards – ah, hell no! They would almost certainly misinterpret the exquisite understanding she would share with Sokka, and twist it into something improper… Her father would understand, wouldn't he? Unworthy enemies could be swatted like flies, but opponents who could actually challenge you?

Ty Lee was right, of course, the Tribesman was a lovely specimen of manhood. It was an affront to the Fire Nation that he was so damned clever, that he had managed to defeat all assaults against him – but then, he had had the Avatar at his side, clearly an unfair advantage!

As she felt the sun angle its way towards the horizon she slowly recognized how Sokka's situation had become something of an obsession to her. Not liking such thoughts, she actively sought out ways to avoid facing the obsession. World domination did not require subjugation of one obsolete warrior, after all.

Still, his subjugation would make world domination uncommonly sweet!

* * *

The kitchen boy was pissed, but it certainly didn't pay for him to show it. Maybe he'd been a bit less careful in washing the greens for the salad or the scallops for the main dish. Maybe, but those who checked were clearly incompetent; the _sous_ chef and the kitchen boy were aligned on this issue, if nothing else (although they were also both in agreement as to satisfying the kitchen boy's appetites, although, what the _sous_ chef had in mind there might have surprised the kitchen boy…) . In any case, as the former expertly wielded his knife, he listened patiently to the kitchen boy's complaints as to the outrage of Lady Ty Lee's actually housing the dirty Tribesman in her own chamber, murmuring consolingly at appropriate moments. He found it interesting, if not particularly surprising, that the guards were none too happy about this development _as well_.

"It's the princess, you know," the kitchen boy groused. "She doesn't care how hard it is for Lady Ty Lee, or how it besmirches her reputation. _She's _prepared to do anything to learn whatever Water Tribe secrets that guy has – and he must know quite a bit since he hangs out with the Avatar, right? I mean, _strategically_ it's probably a good idea, and Lady Ty Lee will probably win all kinds of recognition and promotion for her role here, but _only _if it isn't generally known just how she'll get him to talk…" the boy's expression transmuted through a range of expressions as he imagined his idol's manipulation, her glory, and her shame.

The _sous_ chef enjoyed the play of emotion, imagining being the author of such passion, but frankly believed his young protégé was getting far too caught up in politics for his own good. It was one thing to know whose star was rising, and ensure yourself attached to those going up rather than going down; it was another entirely to become so emotionally attached that one couldn't take the required actions that prevented one from taking the attendant fall.

* * *

The simple reality was that Sokka had lost much of his capacity for coherent thought. After all, it was only yesterday that it had been enough for Ty Lee to merely make lewd suggestions to him in too-close proximity as to make him tell more than he _should_ have about his clothes. Maybe he'd thought he'd gained more sophistication with the evening's grapple and his assertion requiring some kind of _quid pro quo_, but the simple truth was that he was a healthy adolescent male with far too much education and imagination and far too little experience when it came to carnal relations.

Ty Lee had removed the tunic and was now licking his chest.

_Licking_ it!

While he could just about prevent his arms from moving off the bedding he had no equal control over another appendage, and the rational fraction of his brain still determined to make use of this situation was heartily swearing at the rigid morality that had prevented him from visiting those houses in the lower rings of the city he'd heard bandied about during their stay which might have immunized him a bit from such temptation. After all, what Gran-Gran didn't know no one would tell her – unless Katara somehow found out. Sokka groaned – although it actually was only partially inspired by Ty Lee's antics. Katara _would_ have found out, of course.

He desperately hoped she wouldn't find out about _this,_ because he was reasonably sure he lacked either the control or even the will to stop this from achieving its logical end.

Sure enough, Ty Lee's hands were no longer limited to his torso in their wonderings. With a bit of a start, Sokka tried to calculate just how much longer he needed to remain passive under her administrations.

* * *

He was still _trying _to resist her.

Ty Lee could tell; she'd noticed the tightly clenched fists – which actually eased that worried voice in the back of her mind a bit, since it seemed to suggest a reasonable progression of returning control to her subject that, when combined with the emotional shock of Ty Lee's humiliation and its adrenalin rush, could explain his earlier ability to move. Of course, that also _could_ have merely evinced his continuing anger at his "pet" status, along with the stubborn closed-down look on his face ever since.

But those parts of his body not subject to his active control were positively singing under her touch, and she reveled in it. She was sure he would finally succumb. And when he did, she fervently hoped he would release that wild creature that had taken control of their kiss so thoroughly yesterday. One, she had _relished_ that animal's passion and suspected he would find ways to make her own body sing in response. And two, perhaps even more importantly, _wild_ Sokka may prevent _dangerous _Sokka from deciding to splatter her brains across every surface of her cabin in retaliation for fastening that damned collar around his neck!

As all these considerations worked their way through her consciousness, those aspects of Ty Lee's personality that had always held the greater sway were delighting in the current situation. Granted, this young man lacked the height and mass of a full-grown man – greater size was always something of a delicious enticement for Ty Lee's adventurous soul – but the muscles beneath his skin were hard and well-formed. And as her questing hand found its target she was able to affirm what the previous evening's more amorphous judgments had suggested. Ah yes, it appeared Sokka's generally pleasing physical proportionality would not disappoint as to the essentials – she could think of any number of previous lovers whose endowments paled in comparison.

Well then, even if he refused to comply – so pissed off as he may be to Azula's damned collar – it seemed _one_ of them would still find enjoyment in the evening's activities.

The assiduity of her efforts paused momentarily while Ty Lee considered how to adjust her paralyzing blows so as to not prevent adequate blood flow to a certain important body part, once adequately stimulated.

* * *

Having decided that the whole situation was intolerable, was there anything she could actually _do_ about it?

From what she remembered about him, Zuko would hate her enough for consorting with Azula against him, now. She had known _that_ from the moment she joined the princess, some months ago. But the converse was worse. Azula would almost certainly kill Zuko if she thought it to her advantage, and without Mai there was no one to suggest otherwise. Azula trusted her loyalty and her judgment. If anyone could save Zuko from Azula, it was Mai.

So she had chosen the lesser of evils and joined Azula's crusade.

When had a stupid Tribesman's predicament impinged in any way on her primary goal?

Well, when he had accepted without question her desire to master his bizarre throwing weapon for the sake of the beauty of the weapon itself. He was a man after her own heart and, damn it, the truth was he deserved better. Azula's and Ty Lee's plot to exploit his apparent sexual naïveté was ugly on its face.

It was nice to know her concern had nothing to do with what he thought about her.

And if she walked away right now it was likely he would die thinking no less.

So why was that not enough for her? Search as she might she could find no practical justification. And Sokka was _not_ sufficiently similar to Zuko to satisfy a coldly applied psychological comparison, either. Ah hell.

It seemed it was just because she felt she could relate to this guy, that they were somehow peers after all. Damn it! This was not a satisfactory answer, any way you looked at it!

Mai refused to consider that her heart might be ready to reach out to another, that it had finally given up on Zuko. Now _that_ was far too painful to consider!


End file.
